


Penance

by jinhoes



Series: Pentagang [2]
Category: Pentagon (Korean Band)
Genre: M/M, exactly 21K though nice, heavy themes of suicide, hongseok is a bully, hongseok is not meant to be a sympathetic character in the beginning of this, hui really does try his best, im sorry, jinho suffers a lot, jinhongseok's romantic relationship really... isnt a big focus here, like honestly if you're sensitive you may not want to read, minor yeoyan, shinwon is a kid who needs more supervision, this took me like seven weeks to write oops, very minor kihuidawn, very minor shinwooyu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-21 00:39:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9523586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinhoes/pseuds/jinhoes
Summary: Yang Hongseok is a bad person who wants nothing more than to be as good as Jo Jinho(please check the tags)[SERIES DISCONTINUED]





	

**Author's Note:**

> The second installment in the series of fics which leave you with more unresolved questions than answers... whoops.
> 
> Trigger warnings here for suicide (a VERY heavy theme, especially in the beginning), violence and robbery, and hints of murder. Yeah. This one isn't as nice as the last one.
> 
> Most of the story is just Hongseok, Jinho, and Hui, so I hope you bear with that.
> 
> As with the last one, things in this which aren't explain will be explained in later fics.
> 
> And the editing in this was really light, please forgive me until I go through and edit more carefully.

_ October 26th, 10:11 a.m. _

 

The front door closed with a light click. 

 

It was more than enough to stir Hongseok awake on the couch, the young man lifting his head to watch while his boyfriend pulled off his shoes, his hair tangled like he hadn’t slept at all, and Hongseok considered he probably hadn’t. Hongseok hadn’t either, really. He’d dozed for most of the night, not really asleep but not really awake, and then he’d fallen asleep at last after six in the morning. It hadn’t been a peaceful sleep by any means.

 

“How is he?” he asked, and Jinho looked up, apparently just noticing Hongseok where he was.

 

“Why did you sleep on the couch?” he asked, walking over to the younger. Hongseok shrugged, leaning his head over the arm of the couch. “And you’re still wearing your jeans?”

 

“You too,” Hongseok threw back, smiling tiredly. “But how is he?”

 

Jinho pulled off his coat, and laid it over the back of the armchair. At Hongseok’s very pointed look, he laughed quietly and put it onto the hook where it belonged. “Changgu is okay. The doctor thinks he has some nerve damage, but they don’t think it’s horrible, and it wasn’t his dominant hand. And his concussion is really mild too.”

 

“Thank god,” Hongseok breathed, closing his eyes a second. “How’s Yan An?”

 

Jinho blinked, confused by the question. “He wasn’t hurt?”

 

“Emotionally?” Hongseok elaborated, mentally rolling his eyes. Jinho nodded quickly in understanding.

 

“Oh. I guess he’s alright? I think he’s exhausted though, the kid didn’t sleep at all. Just trying to convince him to leave the room was a battle.” Something made Jinho smile. “He, uh. I think him and Changgu have a few things to talk about.”

 

Hongseok smiled back, lifting an eyebrow. “Oh?”

 

“Yeah,” Jinho confirmed. “I think they’re both tired too, though. Kino and Hui are going to check on them this afternoon.”

 

“Good,” Hongseok said, and yawned. He rolled off the couch and hugged Jinho tight, feeling the older of them sigh contentedly. He kissed the top of his head and then pulled back to kiss his lips, short and sweet. “You need to go to sleep.”

 

“That sounds good,” Jinho admitted. “Come sleep with me?”

 

“That sounds good too,” Hongseok agreed, yawning lightly. He kept his arm over Jinho’s shoulders and walked them both to the bedroom, where they changed into sleep clothing. Hongseok closed the curtains to give a better illusion of night time while Jinho climbed into bed. A few seconds later, Hongseok joined him. He tucked Jinho against his chest and the man was asleep in seconds.

 

Hongseok tried to drift off, he really did. He was comfortable and content and tired enough for it. But thoughts plagued his consciousness, reminding him of his journey to get here, and how much of a different person he was from three years ago.

 

He didn’t like thinking about how he used to be.

 

\---

 

_ December 29th, 2 years ago _

 

Yang Hongseok was not a good person.

 

He had come to terms with that long ago, so deeply ingrained as a part of him that it had become a generally accepted fact. It was a descriptor that sat at the core of his being, something just as much a part of him as his black hair and name. It was only recently that he’d come to accept the terms of what being a bad person meant.

 

Which brought him to where he was, overlooking the water of the Suyeong River below the Gwangan Bridge. It was dusk, the light fading over the horizon and Hongseok thought that it would have been nicer if it had been quieter, without the cars rushing over behind him. It was cold, even for Busan. Probably close to zero degrees outside. His teeth chattered and goose bumps rose over his arms, but he thought that was kind of fitting.

 

It was hard to jump from the Gwangan Bridge.

 

It was gorgeous, to say the least. It had just grown dark enough for the lights to turn on and he stared at them in awe, even with his emotions as damaged and nonexistent as they were. The railings on the sides of the bridge were high, almost as tall as Hongseok himself, but not high enough that he’d consider them impossible to climb.

 

He wasn’t sure why he’d chosen Gwangan. It had been an ever present image in his mind, he supposed, since its opening when he was a child. It was humongous and western, a symbol of technological innovation, and to child Hongseok, a symbol of wonder. He’d never seen any structure so large in his life, and could still say that was true.

 

Maybe that’s why he’d chosen it. For once in his life, it made him feel insignificant. Small. Unimportant. It was a relief, freeing in a way he could have never anticipated.

 

He thought he might have laughed.

 

Yang Hongseok didn’t want to die.

 

This, too, he’d concluded. Concluded long ago, probably from birth. Self-preservation was strong, and deep-rooted. He was fighting it now. A voice in his head, a scared gut feeling, telling him he had to go back, to run away and never return, to live out his life somewhere where he’d never see this bridge or think these thoughts again.

 

He wondered if Kyun Sejun had thought the same things, felt the same feelings. The thoughts strengthened him, and his resolve.

 

The barrier between the walkway and the exterior of the bridge had ladders, so that mechanics would better be able to fix and repair. Hongseok thought that somewhat defeated the purpose of the wall, which was to keep people on the safe side, but he wasn’t complaining. It was an advantage now, and he climbed the rungs quick and easy, until he was sitting over the wall.

 

Now, it was a matter of willpower.

 

He heard honks behind him, of people driving by, and knew at least some people were noticing him. That was fine, he trusted his ability to push himself before one of the guards could intervene. The water below looked dark, illuminated with the reflection of lights on its surface, and unnervingly flat. It was like staring at glass, and Hongseok wondered grimly if it would feel like landing on glass. He hoped he’d gotten high enough that it wouldn’t hurt for long, and he wouldn’t end up drowning and broken instead. He wasn’t a good person, but even bad people didn’t deserve that.

 

His own words were cycling in his head on repeat, had been even on his way up the bridge and to this spot. Words he’d said once, what felt like an eternity ago.

 

_ “It’s really easy,” Yang Hongseok promised, leaning his shoulder into an obviously uncomfortable and nervous freshman. “Don’ know why you haven’t done it already.” _

 

_ “Leave me alone.” _

 

_ “If you count to ten,” he said, completely ignoring the younger boy, “you can probably make yourself do it on reflex. If you own a gun, hold it under your chin, and count to ten. That’s probably the quickest way.” _

 

_ “Leave me alone.” _

 

_ “And if you don’t own a gun, that’s fine too. You can walk into traffic, and a car with some driver too busy to look at the road will hit you. Might not kill you, though, so that’s too bad. Would probably hurt too.” _

 

_ “Go away.” _

 

_ “I’m trying to help you.” Hongseok rolled his eyes, setting his arm over the shoulders of the freshman, who stiffened instantly. “There’s so many ways to do this, let me give you some ideas.” _

 

_ “Please don’t.” _

 

_ “I heard a please,” Hongseok hummed, turning and shoving Kyun Sejun hard against a locker. Students around them diverted, clearing way around without glancing too long. “Could overdose, too. It’s hard to do it with sleeping pills, did you know that? Gotta use other stuff. I’ve heard if you get high enough off it, it’s not too bad.” _

 

_ “Leave me alone!” Sejun begged, trying to push himself free. Hongseok held him down, taller and more athletic. _

 

_ “You hear about the guy who jumped off Gwangan last year? If you wanna be fancy, you can do that. People might actually say nice shit about you for once.” _

 

_ “Fuck you!” Sejun spat, swatting Hongseok’s arm away, and Hongseok let him with a laugh. _

 

_ “I’m just kidding,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re so sensitive, Sejun.” _

 

You’re so sensitive, Sejun.

 

He shivered again as wind rose up, the nearby water making it all the more biting. His feet were swinging now, feeling a little childlike and he let a small, sad smile light up his face.

 

What right did he have to feel fucking sorry for himself?

 

_ It’s easy _ , he thought, leaning forward from his perch, and feeling his grip on the concrete wall begin to slip. His stomach flipped, apparently unaware until now of the peril it was in.  _ Count to ten, and you can make yourself do it. _

 

Count to ten.

 

_ One.  _ He wondered, idly, if his body would ever be found.

 

_ Two. _ He wondered what kind of person he would have been like.

 

_ Three. _ Hongseok thought he might be crying now, tears chilling his cheeks and making his nose snotty.

 

_ Four. _ He leaned forward more, and his shoes slid, no longer finding purchase on the side of the wall.

 

_ Five _ . Should he have left a note? What would his family even think, when they were told?

 

_ Six _ . Should he have apologized to Kyun Sejun?

 

_ Seven _ . No, he couldn’t have. What even was there to say, now? Nothing that would be appreciated, or would make a difference. Nothing that mattered.

 

_ Eight.  _ He pressed his palms down in the concrete and began to hoist himself up, his body slowly tipping forward. It wasn’t like falling asleep, this kind of death. It was like falling, falling for eternity until you reached the ground for one final touch with the Earth.

 

_ Nine. _ He heard something, a voice behind him, coming close. Startled, he leaned farther forward- too early, too early.

 

_ Ten _ . He was falling.

 

His breath gasped out of his lungs as he landed, backward on the walkway below. It was a miracle he’d landed on his back and not his head, a miracle in a sense anyway. He groaned in pain, feeling his back light up with agony, He panted, tensing like it may stop him from crying out, and he became aware of someone else lying on the ground next to him. He was swearing under his breath and scrambling to his feet.

 

The face was instantly familiar and Hongseok was sure, were he not wincing, his eyes would have opened wide. “... Hwitaek?”

 

Lee Hwitaek looked at him, holding onto his arm where blood was flowing freely. He was pale, stunned and terrified. “What the fuck, Yang Hongseok?” he breathed, and gasped from his own pain.

 

“What are you doing here?” Hongseok was in shock, emotions and thoughts not catching up with the situation like they should. He shifted, sitting up, and yelped in pain during the process.

 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Hongseok wasn’t sure he could name any time he’d ever seen Hui angry. The guy was a year above him, or had been until he had dropped out a year ago. But when he was in school, he was known for being a funny, friendly guy. What he was experiencing here was a full force, angry expression that chilled him.

 

He scowled, gritting his teeth. “What the hell does it mean to you?” he demanded, leaning farther forward. The illusion faded when he tensed and gasped, as his nerves in his back began to yell angrily at him for the offending motion. He felt a hand grabbing his arm and hoisting him up, and flinched away violently.

 

“No, what the fuck!” Hongseok stepped backwards and away, away from Hui and towards the barrier. “You can’t just- I was-”

 

“You were going to kill yourself by jumping off Gwangan Bridge, right?” Maybe it was obvious, but Hongseok still didn’t appreciate being spoken down to.

 

“Why does it matter to you?” he demanded, not sure why he was still speaking instead of turning and making a break for it, and diving over the edge before Hui could stop him. He was capable, he knew. Hui was smaller and less fit than he was, and running away or overpowering him would be easy. But he couldn’t make his feet move.

 

“It doesn’t, but it matters to you, right?” Hui was holding his hands up placatingly, and Hongseok hated that too. He wasn’t out of his right mind, and he definitely wasn’t a dog that needed to be goaded down from attacking.

 

Hongseok realized he was still crying, maybe a little more now with the pain, and wiped angrily at his eyes and nose.

 

“You can’t talk me down from this,” he said, glaring.

 

“Why are you doing this, anyway?” Hui was patient, even if he was annoyed. Hongseok’s chest was heaving with each breath he took and he didn’t have any idea why, but it made his lungs hurt.

 

“Fuck you,” Hongseok said dismissively, crossing his arms over his chest and looking over the traffic going by. He felt something wet and sticky on the back of his shirt and could only assume it was blood, just like the kind seeping from Hui’s arm.

 

“Hear me out.” There was desperation in his tone. “Humor me, please. Killing yourself now versus in a few minutes won’t change much.”

 

Hongseok looked Hui up and down, at the t-shirt he was wearing (in December?) to his dyed blonde hair, messy and wild. He wondered if he looked just as crazy.

 

“I’m bad,” Hongseok said after a few seconds. “I’ve never done anything except harm other people in my entire life, and I don’t think I’ll ever change. So, what the fuck, I guess. This is the least I can do for penance.”

 

“You’ll only do more harm.” The adamance in Hui’s voice was startling, making Hongseok blink in surprise, and then get annoyed.

 

“You don’t know me, you can’t say that.”

 

“Your family,” Hui said, and Hongseok laughed.

 

“I know I’ll hurt them in the future if I stick around. I know I’ve hurt them before. They deserve so much more than a son like me.”

 

Hui was shaking his head, stepping closer. Hongseok took two backwards.

 

“Sorry,” Hui amended, and Hongseok nodded. “You don’t know anything about the future.”

 

“I know what the past says.” Hongseok sniffled, the cold heavily affecting him now. “I know what past experience says. I know that I’ve never been worse than I am now, and I know I need to stop before I do something worse.”

 

“You think killing yourself is the only way to do that,” said Hui. It was a statement, not a question, and Hongseok nodded in confirmation. “Have you tried to change?”

 

“It won’t work,” Hongseok said. He was shaking, from chill and from crying. Fucking crybaby. Fucking weak. “I just- I know.”

 

“You don’t know,” Hui insisted. “If you’ve never tried, you don’t know.”

 

“I don’t deserve a second chance!” Hongseok snapped, the volume of his voice carrying off the walls of the bridge like some frightening echo. “I know myself, I can’t unleash that on them again.”

 

“Anyone deserves a second chance,” Hui said, looking like he was struggling not to cry himself. “I- Hongseok-ah, I want to help you.” Hongseok laughed, shaking his head. “I do! You’re a kid, you’ve made stupid mistakes, but I want to help you.”

 

“How can you help me?” Hongseok demanded, holding the sleeves of his jacket tighter around himself.

 

Hui sighed, brushing at his eyes with the back of his hand. “First off, I can help you with your back.” As if responding to its name, Hongseok’s back made its severe ache known once again. At Hongseok’s skeptical look, Hui shrugged. “It’s the least I can do, it’s my fault you got hurt.”

 

Yang Hongseok didn’t want to die. Even now, having brushed with death just a minute ago, he was aware of that. Being presented with a second option… it wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t definite. But it was a start, it was something, and he tried as hard as he could to hide the fact that he was grasping onto the life preserver Hui was offering him. A kid he didn’t know, not really. A kid who was a dropout. A kid who pretended he could help him when Hongseok knew full well that that wasn’t the case, but he’d humor him. For now, until he could convince himself again, he’d humor him.

 

“Okay,” Hongseok said, and the relief that broke over Hui’s face was hilarious.

 

“Okay,” he said, probably thinking this was some kind of monumental breakthrough. Maybe it was, to him. “Come on, my car’s down a little.”

 

“Aren’t you seventeen?” Hongseok asked, voice a bit scratchy from crying and yelling. He was walking away from the spot he’d nearly died in, the spot he still hadn’t completely abandoned in his mind, and he wasn’t thinking much. The question was autopilot, without much thought or consideration or filter. It appeared to please Hui, though.

 

“Don’t be a snitch,” Hui said, a light laugh bubbling in his throat. “It’s my roommate’s car. I needed it for groceries. Speaking of which, just push them in the backseat. It’s no big deal.” The effort Hui was making to remain casual was admirable, not that Hongseok cared one way or another.

 

The car was a small, used, ugly green car. Hongseok slid into the passenger seat while Hui crossed the car to the driver’s, and he managed to get a pretty good glimpse as the bleeding scrape on his arm- it wasn’t awful, but it was ugly. He wondered absentmindedly if his own blood was going to stain the seat of the car. He didn’t lean against it just in case, holding his spine straight to avoid as much pain as possible.

 

“Where do your parents think you are?” Hui questioned, side-eyeing his passenger. Hongseok shrugged, looking out the window. “Do they have any idea?”

 

“Probably not,” Hongseok said, unashamed. “What about yours?”

 

Hui started up the car like he hadn’t heard him speak, and Hongseok was annoyed. “Did you run away from home?”

 

“Did  _ you _ run away from home?” Hongseok shot back, and Hui’s shoulders shook humorously.

 

“Good point.” He wasn’t moving his injured arm much, but Hui was an alright driver for someone underage. He’d obviously had practice. “But did you?”

 

“Did _ you _ ?” Hongseok asked petulantly, and was surprised when he got an answer.

 

“Yeah, over the summer.” Hui didn’t take his eyes off the road. “I wanted to get out, so I did. I moved in with a friend who dropped out when I did.”

 

“What friend?”

 

“Jo Jinho,” Hui answered, and Hongseok only vaguely recognized the name. “He was in his last year, you probably wouldn’t know him. Anyway, did you run away?”

 

Hongseok didn’t look away from the window, but did examine Hui’s reflection with annoyance. “... Yes.”

 

“Your family’s probably looking for you,” said Hui, and Hongseok hated him and his voice.

 

It was past dusk now, only just barely too light out to be called night. The water and the bridge had faded into the distance, blending with the Busan skyline. It had taken him a while to get there and now it was taking mere minutes to leave. He felt like his work and attempt was being erased.

 

_ I’m sorry, Sejun. _

 

He wasn’t sure how long he spent staring out of the car, watching scenery pass by, but it was long enough for the skyline to fade into a haphazard spread of lights on the horizon, and for night to fall entirely. Hongseok’s breath fogged up the glass and made him alert of the silence.

 

He turned his head, watching Hui drive silently. The older boy looked troubled, way too troubled for someone who was barely seventeen. Hongseok supposed he was at least slightly at fault for that, and the guilt that lit in his chest was small but present.

 

“We’re here.”

 

He blinked, becoming aware of the fact that the car had stopped and Hui was now looking his way. He breathed out, and nodded silently.

 

He shivered, tugging his thin jacket tighter over his arms. There was less wind away from the water but it was still freezing, made worse with the sun down. Hui shivered too, in nothing but a t-shirt. Hongseok wanted to know his reason, but he kept his mouth shut out of fear of biting his tongue off.

 

Walking into the apartment building wasn’t much better, but it was a blessing compared to the alternative of standing in the cold. Even better was when Hui unlocked the door of his apartment and entered, calling out, “Jinho!”

 

Hongseok stood in the doorway, looking around without seeing much. There just wasn’t much to see in the first place, the apartment was very small- the kitchen and the living room was essentially one room, and the hallway led to only two doors that he could see, probably a bedroom and a bathroom.

 

Jinho was a little more familiar on sight than by name, a short, older boy with a soft voice and a fringe like he was still in the last parts of a scene phase. At the sight of Hui he smiled tiredly, a greeting. At the sight of Hongseok, his eyebrows rose in confusion.

 

“Hongseok, right?” he asked, and Hongseok nodded even though it was clear the questioning was directed more at Hui than him. He closed the door quietly behind him, waiting for the two older boys to start talking.

 

“We need the first aid kit,” Hui said finally, moving his feet down the hall and into a room. Jinho looked only further confused, and Hongseok couldn’t blame him.

 

“Did you get in a fight?” Jinho asked, with a tone that suggested this was something that happened often. He was on his feet now and Hongseok walked closer, not wanting to just crowd the doorway awkwardly. 

 

“In a way,” Hui said, as though he was making a joke, and Hongseok rolled his eyes. Jinho looked his way like he might get further explanation, but instead his eyes just widened. “Your back!”

 

“Yeah,” Hongseok agreed. Jinho moved towards him- to examine him? Who knew- but Hongseok backed away. 

 

Instead of looking hurt or annoyed, Jinho surprised him and dipped his head in apology. “Sorry, habit. But Hui, what’s going on?”

 

“We fell, and I hurt my arm. Hongseok hurt his back.” It was a simple explanation that didn’t seem to appease Jinho, but he only bit his lip, presumably to hold back questions. Hui sat the first aid kit onto the counter in the kitchen, and opened it up. It was clear that this wasn’t the first time by a long shot that it was being used, and the bandages appeared to be running low while some things were just plain missing. Jinho noticed Hui’s arm now and didn’t even hesitate like he had with Hongseok. In seconds he was examining Hui and he was allowing it, waiting for some kind of prognosis beyond,  _ ‘Wow, looks like you hurt your fucking arm, Hwitaek.’ _

 

“You’ve got gravel and dirt all in it,” Jinho observed, reaching into the kit and withdrawing some kind of cleaning wipes. He nodded over at Hongseok, who was still standing. “Feel free to sit down, I’ll help with you in a minute.”

 

This, thought Yang Hongseok, was what a good person looked like. Not even Hui had the same feel that Jinho had, a lightness that eased Hongseok’s thoughts. Before he even knew it he was nodding, and sat himself on a chair in the dining room.

 

“So, what happened really?” Jinho questioned, brushing at Hui’s arm to remove the foreign material. Hui winced for about half a second.

 

“Yang Hongseok is on suicide watch, by me,” said Hui, a little pointed. He hissed when Jinho’s fingers slipped and pressed too hard, and Hongseok kind of thought he deserved it for a comment like that.

 

Jinho was clearly thinking, intensely working on the wound with only a half-hearted apology for the accidental harm. He spoke at last, probably half a minute after what Hui had said. “I’m guessing that involves why you’re both hurt?”

 

“I had to tackle him off the Gwangan Bridge.”

 

“You pulled me back onto the Gwangan Bridge,” Hongseok corrected, watching his feet tap the tile floor. “And you didn’t have to do anything.”

 

When he lifted his eyes again, Hui was looking at Jinho as though to say, ‘ _ I told you so’ _ , but Jinho had yet to look up from his arm. He was dabbing it lightly to clear blood now, and Hongseok saw that there were lines of solidified blood trails all over his arm. He wondered what a mess his back was. He didn’t dare shift too much lest he open any scabs that had somehow closed.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that you did that, Hongseok,” Jinho said finally, looking directly at the aforementioned boy. “I really hope you change your mind.”

 

It was… a nice thing to say. 

 

Hongseok thought he was starting to hate this guy.

 

“Anyway, I need to go get the groceries,” Hui said, like he’d just remembered. Jinho pushed down on his shoulder, like he was holding him in place.

 

“Not yet, you don’t.” He worked fast, Hongseok marveled. He was already working on the bandages, tight and neatly going up Hui’s arm from just above his wrist to just beneath his shoulder, and then clipping them in place. “Okay, you can go now. Just… don’t lift with that arm.”

 

“Believe me, I don’t want to,” Hui assured with a light, semi-forced laugh as he stood upright. He held the front door open as Jinho moved to Hongseok and walked out with more than a few glances back, clearly thinking that he was going to make a break for it. Hongseok was tempted, but he also wanted his back fixed up, and that was the more primary focus in his mind.

 

“Lift your shirt, please?” It was a question, all polite and respectful and quiet, yet not lacking any confidence. Hongseok obeyed after only a second of hesitation, wincing when the motions of his shoulders and arms aggravated him, and breathing quick out of his nose as he went through the process of actually peeling his shirt off, which was surely scabbed against his skin at this point.

 

Jinho made a sympathetic noise, motion for Hongseok to turn his back to him. Jinho’s hands were chilled, but not icy, and the temperature was welcome against the flames ignited on his skin. While Jinho got to work on him, he asked questions.

 

“You work out?” The tone was surprised, and Hongseok didn’t blame him for it. He debated answering, and the answer came through on autopilot anyway, the same way he spoke when he didn’t have to think much.

 

“A few times a week, yeah.”

 

“That’s nice. How old are you, fifteen? Sixteen? You don’t meet a lot of sixteen years olds who do that.”

 

“I guess.” He stiffened abruptly when the wipe passed over an especially sensitive spot, and Jinho muttered an apology,

 

“I don’t exercise as much as I should,” Jinho admitted, not that Hongseok really cared or paid too much attention. “Maybe I’ll go for a walk tomorrow.”

 

Hui came in with the first of his load of groceries, and left again. Hongseok watched him go blankly, and Jinho appeared to notice. He was observant, he was beginning to understand.

 

“You’re probably mad at him,” Jinho assumed, applying some kind of salve across Hongseok’s back, slow and ginger.

 

“Not really,” the younger said, shaking his head. “I’m pissed that I planned for it and he messed with my plans like that, but I understand, I guess. I’m not happy I failed.”

 

“I’m glad you didn’t do it,” Jinho said quietly, and Hongseok snorted.

 

“Bullshit, you don’t know anything about me.”

 

“That’s not completely true,” he said, wry. “I know you’re sixteen and you work out, and that you just inspired me to exercise tomorrow.” He had Hongseok there, he supposed. “Besides, you don’t have to know a person to be happy they’re still around.”

 

“That’s a weird way of thinking,” Hongseok commented, and Jinho shrugged.

 

“It’s a human way of thinking.” Second load in, Hui back out. Jinho watched his roommate leave and then hummed to himself. “We don’t have clothes for you, by the way. I don’t think we have anything large enough to fit you.” Despite being younger, Hongseok had at least ten centimeters already on the both of them.

 

“It’s fine,” he assured. This conversation was good practice, he thought, for being a good person. Talking to Jinho was easy and casual, and he liked it. “I won’t be here long.”

 

“Tell that to Hui,” Jinho said, amused, as he began to roll off some bandages from their spool. He had to reach around Hongseok to pull it along, tight against his back, and he felt the smaller laugh awkwardly against his back. “Sorry. Agh, now I have ointment all over me.”

 

“Not my fault,” Hongseok said, and Jinho laughed again.

 

“Yeah, true.” He tugged the bandages again, crossing back over Hongseok’s front until they wrapped from underneath his armpits to the middle of his stomach. The clips were set in place and Jinho pushed Hongseok lightly in his shoulder to signify he was done.

 

“Thank you,” Hongseok said on reflex, but actually meant it.

 

“I’d say anytime, but I don’t actually want to invite you to do more things that need the first aid kit,” Jinho said, smiling and closing the box. Hui came in and dropped off his third load and then closed the door behind him, clearly accomplished in his goal.

 

“I’ll put the stuff away,” Jinho offered, being the only completely able-bodied person in the apartment. Hui started to protest but Jinho ignored him, setting to work anyway. Hongseok tested the mobility he had with the bandages- stiff, but definitely feeling less in danger of breaking something open. That was nice, he guessed.

 

“You’ll have to sleep on the couch for now, Hongseok,” said Jinho, apologetic as if he hadn’t been burdened with a house guest by complete surprise.

 

Hui was shaking his head instantly. “No, I’ll take the couch. I have to work early anyway, he can take my mattress.”

 

“Are you sure?” Jinho asked, frowning. “Wouldn’t it be better if I did, so that you could sleep well before work?”

 

“Yeah, but you’ll never fall asleep,” Hui said. Jinho straightened up to put some cans in the cover, shaking his head.

 

“... Whatever. Show him where he can sleep.”

 

Hongseok got to his feet and followed Hui to the room opposite of the bathroom, the only possible room to be a bedroom in this tiny ass place. The bedroom was tiny, two mattresses on opposite walls of the room with a blanket and pillow each, and a humidifier and fan in the corner. It was clear, looking in, that Hui and Jinho weren’t running on much money at all.

 

He stepped into the room at Hui’s urging, even though it wasn’t like there was anything inside that he couldn’t see. The bed on his right had a grey blanket and clothes, probably dirty, piled on top. The left side bed was neater, with the pillow sat at the head and the blanket folded on the center of the mattress, Hui laughed awkwardly, moving and cleaning off the dirty bed.

 

“This is mine, you can use mine,” he said, dropping the clothes into the corner of the room ( _ dream roommate _ , Hongseok thought sarcastically) and smoothing out the sheets vainly. “Sorry for the, ah… mess.”

 

“I’m going to go to sleep now,” Hongseok said, feeling his eyelids threaten to slam shut the second he said it. Hui nodded quickly, stepping back from the bed.

 

“Yeah, that’s fine. Come find Jinho or I if you need something, okay?”   
  
“Sure.” Hongseok stepped around Hui and slid his shoes off at the base of the bed, hearing the door behind him close and shade the room in darkness. The blanket was a little worn and not quick thick enough to warm him completely, but it was good enough for him.

 

He wished he could fall asleep quickly, but his heart hadn’t stopped racing in the last hour or so and his back was stiff and his eyes hurt from crying. Hongseok almost started up again as his thoughts continued, and forcibly halted his train of thought.

 

No, he thought, angry and annoyed at himself. He wasn’t going to sit here feeling sorry or wallowing in self pity and all that other pathetic bullshit.

 

He wasn’t even aware of how much time had actually passed with him lying in the bed, alternating between staring into space and actually trying to sleep. All he knew was that it felt like ages before the bedroom door opened, and soft hallway light filtered into the room around a figure. Jinho.

 

Jinho didn’t appear to notice he was still awake. He took clothes from the closet and left without much of a glance Hongseok’s way, and then returned wearing sleep clothes. Hongseok mourned his own sleep clothes for a moment. All he’d done was remove his shirt and jacket to go to sleep, even keeping his jeans on.

 

“Are you still awake?”

 

Hongseok stiffened, realizing that Jinho was looking at him from where he stood, not having sat down on his mattress yet and with the light still filtering in. He nodded slow, not saying anything.

 

“I’m sorry.” He had no idea where this apology was going, and said nothing. “It’s probably been… a pretty long day for you.” Jinho shook his head, dropping onto his mattress. “Sorry, I’ll leave you alone. Good night.”

 

“It’s been a long month,” Hongseok corrected, his voice deep with tiredness, and he saw Jinho tense in surprise. He sighed, rolling over on his stomach. “Goodnight, Jinho.”

 

He heard Jinho lay down and get situated, and also heard a few minutes later when his breathing faded into light, whistley exhales. He thought (he was thinking too much) that Jinho was the kind of person he would have exploited and taken advantage of, before Sejun. He also thought Jinho was a genuinely kind soul, and hated that his presence just reminded Hongseok of how far he had to go if he truly wanted some kind of redemption.

 

It was early in the morning when he finally dropped off to sleep.

 

\---

 

_ December 30th, 6:56 a.m. _

 

Hongseok sat straight up, eyes wide and hair unruly. There were people arguing loudly outside of his door, something he couldn’t quite make out, and it was a second before he understood his unfamiliar surroundings. Hui and Jinho’s apartment.

 

Which would make the people arguing….

 

The front door slammed and Hongseok almost flinched, biting his lip and holding his breath in case something else developed. When nothing did, he slowly rolled out of bed and pulled on his shirt from the day before- now clean and folded, showing it had been washed while he slept by someone. He had no idea how, or by who, but he was grateful nonetheless.

 

Jinho was in the living room, sitting on the couch with his head in his hands like he was stressed out, and Hongseok felt awkward. When Jinho looked up, he had a grimace on his face that faded into apology.

 

“Sorry, did we wake you up?” More apologies. “Hui just left for work. It’s early, go back to sleep if you want to.”

 

Hongseok struggled with himself, until the question forced its way out. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Jinho said, a bit too quick and harsh. He winced at his own tone, straightening. “Thanks for asking.”

 

Hongseok nodded slowly, getting the vibe Jinho didn’t want to talk about it, and walked into the kitchen. He heard light footsteps follow him, and Jinho stood awkwardly on the edge of the tile.

 

“Are you hungry? Or thirsty? Sorry, we don’t have much.”

 

“You apologize a lot,” Hongseok observed, and Jinho shrugged, not embarrassed.

 

“I guess. I don’t like people to be inconvenienced. Do you want anything?”

 

Hongseok considered, having not ate or drank in over twenty-four hours. “Water is fine, thanks.”

 

The sun had yet to even begin peeking over the horizon, but Hongseok still looked out through the window when he sat down with his glass in hand. Jinho joined him a moment later, holding a small cup of milk. 

 

“For bone growth,” he explained even though Hongseok hadn’t asked. Hongseok coughed, choking on his water, and Jinho laughed. “I know.”

 

“It’s too late for that,” Hongseok said, and Jinho sighed longingly.

 

“Anything helps at this point.” He downed the glass, and Hongseok sipped his water. “I’m going on a walk soon, you can come if you want.”

 

Hongseok was surprised. “I thought I was on house arrest, or whatever.”

 

Jinho’s lips twitched, thinning. “Hui wants you to stay here, but I don’t give a fuck.”

 

“I’m not a dog, I won’t run away,” Hongseok said, eyes narrowing. Jinho didn’t instantly agree, like he’d been expecting. Instead, he averted his gaze out the window.

 

“Yeah, probably,” he said, half to himself. He got to his feet and washed his glass in the sink, and Hongseok felt annoyed. “Nevermind.”

 

“I want to know what you’re thinking about me.” It was less of a request and more of a demand, and Jinho paused in his actions.

 

“I think you’re suicidal and I don’t know why,” he admitted, setting his cup down. “I think you need help and I think Hui thinks we can give it to you, and I think that’s possible.”

 

Hongseok pushed his chair back and climbed to his feet, grabbing his jacket from the back of a dining room chair. He nodded, pointed. “I wanna go on a walk, let’s go. I bet Hui wouldn’t want you to let me go alone.”

 

“ _ I _ don’t want you to go alone,” Jinho said, apparently still in honesty mode, and Hongseok appreciated it.

 

“Fine. Then let’s go.”

 

\---

 

_ October 26th, 5:45 p.m., present day _

 

“What did they say?” Hongseok asked, laying on his stomach and watching Jinho re-enter the bedroom after taking a phone call from Hui. Jinho climbed back into the bed and leaned his back against the headboard, clearly awake now.

 

“Hui says that when they showed up at three, they woke Changgu and Yan An up,” he explained, and Hongseok laughed, understanding since they themselves had only woke at five. “It was him and Kino and Hyojong who went, and I guess it went okay. They’re still there right now. Changgu’s hand is starting to bother him now that the painkillers have worn off, but he says it’s not bad.” 

 

He laughed suddenly, like he was remembering something, and Hongseok was a little mesmerized with how his boyfriend’s face lit up.

 

“Hui told Yan An that Changgu was going to have to get his own bed at some point and Yan An asked ‘why?’”

 

“That’s cute,” Hongseok said, grinning. “They’re cute kids.”

 

“All the kids are cute,” Jinho interjected. “Even when they’re brats. Don’t tell them I said that.”

 

“Never,” Hongseok promised, patting Jinho’s knee reassuringly. He hesitated before asking, “Do you remember that first time we went for a walk after meeting?”

 

The odd look Jinho gave him was almost comical. “... Yeah. It was so awkward. I kept trying to get you to talk and you weren’t saying anything.”

 

“I was watching the sunrise and listening to you,” Hongseok insisted. Jinho rolled his eyes, and Hongseok shook his knee urgently. “I’m serious.”

 

“I believe you,” Jinho said, in a way that made it clear he didn’t. He smiled fondly at Hongseok’s defeated pout. “Why are you thinking about that suddenly?”

 

“I’m just… thinking,” Hongseok said, and shrugged. “About when we met, about who I used to be. I guess.”

 

“What brought that up?” Jinho was concerned, he was always so damn concerned. He brushed the back of his hand against Hongseok’s cheek like he was checking for fever. Hongseok leaned into it with a sappy flutter of his eyelashes, and Jinho squeaked in surprise, a sound that made them both laugh.

 

“I don’t know,” Hongseok said, rolling back over so he was more comfortable. “I guess… seeing what’s going on with Changgu and Yan An made me get sentimental.”

 

“Sentimental for bad times?” Jinho questioned, confused. Hongseok shook his head.

 

“They weren’t… all bad.”

 

“You wanted to die, it was pretty bad.” Jinho was brushing Hongseok’s hair back in a comforting motion, and Hongseok was half-tempted to do the same to him.

 

“I guess,” he said. “I… I don’t know. I’m thinking a lot.”

 

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Jinho teased, and Hongseok swatted at his hand. “Really though, you’re alright?”

 

“I’m great,” Hongseok promised, taking Jinho’s arm and pulling him down, until their faces were parallel. “I’m really great and really glad to be alive and really happy that I get to live in this apartment with you, who I really love.”

 

Jinho made a noise that was heartwarming, burying his face in the pillow next to Hongseok’s head. “You’re killing me.”

 

“You like it,” Hongseok said, shoving Jinho’s shoulder playfully. “Can we go walk and get something to eat?”

 

“Only if you change and brush your teeth,” Jinho said, snickering at Hongseok’s hurt expression. “No matter how much you love me, you’re not getting any closer to me unless you smell nice.”

 

Hongseok supposed that was fair.

 

\---

 

_ December 31st, 1:23 a.m. _

 

Hongseok had been thinking a lot.

 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been doing enough of that, this last week, month even. He’d overthought everything there was to overthink, his mind uncontrollably racing from one idea to the next, and repeating things he’d concluded ages ago. So even though he’d made his decision very soon after laying down in the bedroom, he’d lied awake several hours thinking anyway.

 

Hui had made an offer to him on the bridge, promising that he could give him a second chance. And he had, sort of. He’d dragged Hongseok out of his mindset he’d been stuck in, allowed him to work through his emotions a little rather than being swallowed by them. 

 

But Hongseok was going crazy. The past day had been spent doing nothing except the occasional chore for Jinho, and even those were fleeting. He felt like he was wasting away. Maybe it had only been one day, maybe he was expecting results too soon- whatever. But he didn’t think being here was good for him.

 

He sat up slow, glancing to the side at Jinho. He’d come in under an hour ago, and was sleeping- he had that characteristic kind of breathy, whistley snore. For half a second, he almost felt bad about walking out. Jinho was a sweet guy, he had genuinely tried to make Hongseok comfortable- treated his injuries, given him jobs, asked him how he was (but never pried). Maybe if they saw each other again in the future, they’d have to go out and talk for real.

 

Hongseok tugged on his jeans and shirt, amused at himself for thinking about the future in a bright, positive light.

 

The only light came from the TV and a small nightlight in the kitchen, but that was alright. It was enough for Hongseok to see when he grabbed his jacket off the chair in the dining room, and to spot his shoes by the doorway. Enough, just barely, to spot Hui sitting up on the couch with a very awake, very disappointed expression.

 

Hongseok wiped his face of anything but innocence. “Still awake?” he asked, slipping his arms through the sleeves of his jacket. 

 

Hui didn’t answer. Hongseok grew a little more uncomfortable. 

 

“I’m heading out for a walk, I’ll be back later.” Lies belonged in his mouth, he thought. He was good at them, used them often. Sometimes even he got confused about the truth.

 

“I’ll go with you,” Hui said, smiling in a way so false that Hongseok knew they were both aware of the situation. He was standing up, and Hongseok realized with a start that he’d never got undressed in the first place.

 

“You don’t have-” Hongseok started, voice a little weak, and the look Hui fixed him with made him shut his mouth and nod.

 

The outside air was cold and Hongseok was awkward and tense. Hui was making him nervous, and he thought he had good reason for it.

 

Hui dropped pretenses as soon as the door was out of sight. “We’re not trying to hold you prisoner, Hongseok.”

 

“It feels like it,” Hongseok responded, hands in his pockets and gaze downward. “You guys seem like you think I’m going to kill myself or something.”

 

“You already tried, so you can’t blame us,” Hui said, pointed and targeting.

 

“Why are you and Jinho fighting?” Hongseok asked, tone the same. Hui’s jaw tightened and he shook his head, disappointing the younger.

 

“We’re talking about you.”

 

“I’m talking about  _ you _ .”

 

“You’re a brat,” Hui said, and it wasn’t entirely negative. It did have a bite to it, though. “We- I want to know that you’re not going to run out of here, and leave me to hear on the news that they found your body in the river.”

 

“I’m not that unstable,” Hongseok said, not meaning for it to come out as defensive as it did.

 

“Really?” Hui asked, looking Hongseok over. “Because you’re not exactly stable, either.”

 

“You don’t know me.” He’d said the same words to Jinho just the day before, hadn’t he? It was true, they really didn’t know him.

 

Hui agreed. “No, I don’t know you. I want to know what led to you going on that bridge, though. I want to know how to reverse it.”

 

“Can’t.” It was a mumble, slipped out against his will, quiet. Hui heard it anyway.

 

“Can’t what? I can’t know, or you can’t reverse it?”

 

Hongseok squared his shoulders, growing a few inches as he straightened his back. “Both. I guess. Definitely the second part.” He sighed, running his fingers through his messy hair. “Look, Hwitaek- I’m glad you have enough kindness to care so much about some runaway you found on the street, but you can’t just fix me.”

 

“Maybe not, but I can try.” His smile didn’t fit the mood in the slightest, and it would have unsettled Hongseok at any other time. It still sort of did. “Hongseok, It’s your decision, but if you wanna stick around at our place, you’ll have food and a bed while you get on your feet. Think of it less like house arrest and more like- I don’t know, a sleepover.”

 

“I’m sixteen, not five,” Hongseok deadpanned, and Hui shrugged.

 

“You know what I mean. But either way, for the next few days- I think it’d make me and Jinho feel better if you didn’t go off on your own, you know? I think Jinho likes you, not that you’ve been very talkative to him.” The older winced. “That came out bad.”

 

“I understand,” Hongseok said, looking up at the apartment building that they’d managed to circle in the last few minutes. “I- I’m tired, I’m going to sleep.”

 

“That’s fine,” Hui said, nodding to the door. “I’m going to stay outside a little longer.” He was watching the sky thoughtfully, like he was considering something. Hongseok hesitated, and then wished Hui a good night as the door closed behind him.

 

The old him wouldn’t have said good night.

 

He’d barely stepped inside the apartment when there was a small brunette standing in front of him, eyes wider than normal as he looked up. Jinho and Hongseok stared at each other, Hongseok confused and Jinho searching, before the older of them sighed and stepped back.

 

“I- sorry, I woke up and you guys were gone so I-”

 

“Sorry for waking you up,” Hongseok apologized, kicking his shoes off. Jinho furrowed his brow and backed farther, into the living room. He clearly wasn’t satisfied with that, but he seemed more relieved than anything.

 

“I thought you’d ran off to Gwangan again,” Jinho admitted. Hongseok felt sheepish, looking away as he pulled off his jacket. It didn’t escape Jinho’s notice. “You didn’t, right?”

 

“No, Hui and I went on a walk,” Hongseok answered, walking away to the bedroom. Jinho followed, his footsteps much lighter than Hongseok’s. “We talked.”

 

“Oh.” Jinho seemed embarrassed, and a little frazzled. He sat down on his mattress and Hongseok stood, not turning off the light. “I- sorry, I overreacted.”

 

“The concern is nice,” Hongseok admitted before he could stop himself, and the surprised look in Jinho’s eyes conveyed his exact reaction. Hongseok coughed awkwardly, not sure where that admission had come from. It was just… hard, to hide his emotions from Jinho. The guy was sweet, and appeared to understand him to some extent.

 

“I”m glad you think that,” Jinho said, once he appeared to have gotten ahold of himself. “I guess… we should go back to sleep.”

 

“Yeah.” Hongseok flipped the lightswitch and closed the bedroom door, and pulled off his jeans and shirt before he climbed back onto the opposite mattress. Jinho’s phone illuminated his face, signifying he was still awake and wasn’t planning on sleep soon.

 

Hongseok made attempt number two. “Why are you guys fighting?”

 

Jinho tensed, in a subtle way that Hongseok wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t watching for it. “We fight sometimes, it’ll be better in a few days.”

 

“What did you fight about, though?” Hongseok was prying, and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. “Was it about me?”

 

Jinho dropped his phone on his mattress, the light illuminating on the undershadows of his face. “No, it wasn’t about you. I’m sorry if you thought that. It was something else.” He sighed, and sat his phone underneath his pillow, thoroughly darkening the room so only a tiny amount of light came through the curtained window. “Go to sleep, Hongseok-ah. It’s late.”

 

He was dodging the question, and Hongseok let him, getting situated under his own covers. He yawned, and said good night to Jinho, and Jinho said good night back.

 

He was reminded again, that this was not at all a conversation his past self would have been having.

 

\---

 

_ December 31st, 11:34 a.m. _

 

It was the day before Sinjeong, or the Western New Years, and Jinho took Hongseok to the gym a few blocks down the road.

 

He didn’t know how it had happened- he’d woke up early, and found that he now had sleep clothes and casual clothes to wear. They weren’t new, and had likely been bought at a second-hand shop, but Hongseok still stormed into the living room to demand that Hui return them.

 

Jinho was stirring his tea with a spoon at the kitchen table. “Hui’s at work, he’ll be back at five. You can take it up with him then.” Hongseok swore that Jinho was amused by this. “Until then, you should put on the sweat stuff. We’re going to the gym later.”

 

Going to the gym when your only available car was in use translated into a walk, Hongseok soon discovered. But Jinho seemed to appreciate the fresh air, and honestly, so did Hongseok. It made him feel like he could breathe easier, and Jinho’s presence wasn’t stress inducing like Hui’s was, even when he was talking. This time, Hongseok allowed himself to contribute more than just a couple words to the conversation, and Jinho quickly seemed enthusiastic about it.

 

The gym wasn’t one Hongseok had used before, It was small, and probably full of regulars who recognized new faces in an instant. But none of the heads turned their way for longer than a few moments, and Hongseok was glad for it.

 

Jinho hadn’t been to the gym in a while, if ever. That much was obvious by the way the walk here had somewhat winded him, and the way his eyes swept the room like he had no idea where to start. Hongseok was strangely endeared, and directed the older to a treadmill next to where he planned to lift weights and work on his upper body strength.

 

“We still have to walk home hyung, so don’t overdo it,” Hongseok advised. Jinho’s mouth morphed into an ‘o’ of surprise, and Hongseok ran the words belatedly through his head until he found the accidental honorific. He cleared his throat and turned away, grabbing some of the smaller weights from the shelf and laying his back on the table. He watched Jinho hesitate before starting up the treadmill, and choose a speed too fast to keep up for long. He figured Jinho would learn, and set himself to work.

 

“How long have you been doing this?” Jinho asked, words a little breathy.

 

“My dad got me a membership when I turned fourteen,” Hongseok answered, focusing on the familiarity in his repetitive motions. “So about two years.”

 

“You’ve probably done more in those two years than I’ve done in my entire life,” Jinho said, his laugh soft and strained, and Hongseok bit back a grin.

 

“Everybody has hobbies,” he said, slowly exhaling as he curled his arms up, and exhaling as he curled them down.

 

“Most kids have different hobbies,” Jinho pointed out, hitting the setting down on the treadmill like Hongseok had known he would eventually.

 

“It’s a good thing I’m not a kid then.” He pretended not to notice the way Jinho’s eyes turned the ceiling, fully showing what he thought of that.

 

“Yeah, absolutely,” Jinho said, voice deep as he cleared his throat, like it may make his voice sound less fake. “You’re right.”

 

“Shut up,” said Hongseok, rolling his eyes. He shifted from his back to his stomach and resumed his workout.

 

“I’m eighteen and _ I’m _ a kid, Hongseok-ah,” Jinho said, and Hongseok thought that was an odd idea, that Jinho was anything but the equivalent of an old man, with the way he talked and acted. An old man with a fringe, but an old man nonetheless.   
  


“Is this some of that ‘everyone’s a kid at heart’ bullshit?” Hongseok asked, side-eyeing Jinho. Jinho looked offended, and also a little red-faced.

 

“That’s not bullshit,” he insisted. “You’re- you’ll see, eventually. Not when you’re cynical like this.”

 

“I’m always cynical,” Hongseok said, transitioning his focus back to what he was doing. He heard Jinho hum his disagreement before speaking.

 

“I don’t think you are, I think I haven’t been able to actually see much of the real you the last few days. This is the most human I’ve seen you so far.”

 

Hongseok realized with a start that he was right, and frowned, pausing his workout. He had no idea what was different today, from the day before, or the last week. Today was free, though. Today, he felt like he may actually be starting something.

 

Maybe it was just the euphoria of the trip to the gym. Who knew.

 

They slipped into a silence, which grew more comfortable as time passed. Jinho appeared to have found a nice setting on his treadmill, because he didn’t stop or change it even when the the incline altered. And Hongseok found that his back ached and he was worried about the cuts splitting, but he was careful and felt certain he’d avoided any issues there.

 

They walked back to the apartment an hour later, Jinho tired and both of them smelly.

 

“Thank you,” said Hongseok, and Jinho looked up at Hongseok. It was funny, that even though Hongseok was nearly three years younger, he still had a good ten centimeters on this guy, enough to make him crane his neck when they walked next to each other.

 

“For what?” Jinho asked, like he didn’t know.

 

“For taking me to the gym.”

 

Jinho shook his head, waving off the thanks. “I needed to go anyway, it’s not a problem. I’m between jobs right now, I should have been making use of the time like this anyway.”

 

“Thanks anyway,” said Hongseok, looking up at the sky. It was clear, for winter. No snow had stuck to the ground this year, but he thought they could see some in the next week. That would be nice, he thought.

 

“You’re welcome,” Jinho said, and Hongseok thought it might have been the first time he’d heard it.

 

\---

 

_ January 2nd, 12:17 a.m. _

 

Hongseok had no idea what set it off.

 

All he knew was that he was lying in bed, Jinho asleep in the bed on the other side of the room. Hui was gone, hadn’t returned that night, and Jinho had assured him it wasn’t abnormal, like Hongseok couldn’t see the way his expression tightened.

 

And now, he was spilling pills onto the floor of the bathroom as Jinho pulled them from his hands.

 

Hongseok didn’t fight when Jinho grabbed him by the hand and dragged him to the couch, and sat him down. He didn’t fight when he was given a cup of tea, a few minutes later. He didn’t focus in on Jinho’s face when the older sat facing him on the couch, also holding a cup.

 

Even without focus, he could see he looked like he might cry.

 

“What happened?” 

 

The question came, patient and simple, and it was too much for Hongseok anyway. Because, truly, he knew exactly what had set it off.

 

“Bad dream,” he said, tone low. Truthful, but far from the full story.

 

Jinho wasn’t stupid. “Bad dream about what?” he pressed, words delicate. He seemed like he was trying not to overstep some kind of line, but Hongseok thought maybe that he needed that line overstepped today.

 

“Kyun Sejun,” he said. His breath was way too shuddery, and he hated it. He hated everything about this, he hated what he’d done. He hated that he was probably about to tell Jinho everything. He hated that Jinho was going to hate him after it too.

 

He hated that this situation was so ugly, and that it brought out so much of what made him ugly.

 

Jinho, of course, didn’t understand. His confused expression was questioning enough that Hongseok should have elaborated, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it without direct prompting.

 

“Who is Kyun Sejun?”

 

There it was.

 

Hongseok breathed in a few times, wondering if he really wanted to say something now. But he needed too, so badly. He needed this crushing weight off of his chest, before it broke his completely, like it seemed so intent on doing.

 

“I’m not a good person, Jinho,” he said. He was so thankful when Jinho didn’t interrupt him that he almost wanted to cry. Maybe he wanted to cry anyway. “I’ve made so many people- shit, fuck.” He wiped angrily at his eyes, determinedly trying not to cry his way through this, but he couldn’t help his emotions.

 

“You don’t have-” Jinho started, and Hongseok gave him an annoyed look that shut him up.

 

“I need to, please let me.” Hongseok didn’t think he’d begged for anything before, but it felt like he was now. 

 

Jinho nodded slowly.

 

“I don’t deserve any of this you’ve given me,” he said. “And if you want to kick me out- I understand, fuck I really do. I’m an asshole. I bully kids at school because it’s fun. Not for any good reason, not because my parents fight, not because my dad beats me. It’s just fun. Fuck. I make kids cry and scream and hate themselves and go hungry because it’s funny.”

 

Jinho’s face was a mask, and Hongseok thought disgust might have been better.

 

“Kyun Sejun… he’s a freshman, and he had no friends and he was fat, so I told him the worst shit, hyung. I told him he was worthless, I told him that he was gross, I told him no one liked him.” He couldn’t breathe,  His chest hurt, and the cup in his hands was shaky. “I told him a couple weeks that he should kill himself. And he didn’t do it, but he tried. Ended up in the hospital.”

 

He couldn’t even look at Jinho now, too terrified of what he may find there.

 

“I heard about it and I just… I couldn’t deal with it. I dropped everything. I ran away, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what I did, and what an awful fucking excuse for a human being I was. I am. I- shit, I chose Gwangan because I thought they might not find the body then. Maybe it would spare my parents some heart ache.” 

 

He finally managed to do it, to look at Jinho. But Jinho was looked at the cup he held, not at Hongseok. Hongseok understood, and his heart sank anyway.

 

“And then Hui stopped me and I just- I thought maybe I could change. And I think I am changing, maybe. Over the last few days. B-but, the dream… reminded me of all the shit I’ve done, and I couldn’t handle it.” A question slipped out, before he could stop it, before he could contemplate if he truly wanted to know the answer. “Do you think I can be forgiven?”

 

The answer was immediate.

 

“No.”

 

And he understood. He really did. He’d been thinking the exact same thing. There was no forgiveness for someone who had done what he’d done, who liked doing what he did.

 

Jinho took a breath, and exhaled, before speaking again, and Hongseok hung onto his every word. “But Hongseok-ah, I think you can be a better person.” He was looking at him now, thank god. And he wasn’t hateful either. Hongseok didn’t know how a human being could have that much kindness to know what he’d done, and not be disgusted with him. Much less, be kind.

 

“I want to be,” Hongseok said, breathing heavy. “God, I really want to be a better person, hyung.”

 

Jinho pushed back his hair, nodding. Determination set onto his face. “I think you’re on your way there, if you really want to be better.”

 

“I do.”

 

“I believe you.” He could feel it, the way that Jinho seemed more withdrawn. Cautious. Hongseok wanted to yell at him for it, but he also understood it so completely it was sad.

 

“Thank you,” he said, and he cleared his throat in attempt to rid it of the shake, annoyed with himself. He hadn’t expected that saying this out loud would be as relieving as it felt, now that the scary part was over.

  
He’d especially never expected to get encouragement.

 

\---

 

Hongseok wasn’t sure when he started looking at Jinho so differently. He had no idea when he started staring at the way Jinho’s eyes crinkled when he smiled, when he started obsessing over Jinho’s squeaky laugh, when he could make himself content just listening to the older boy speak. All he knew was that that was a thing now, he supposed. He’d known since he was a preteen that he liked both guys and girls, so that wasn’t so much a surprise to him. What really confused him was the reasoning behind it. After all, Jinho was a short guy, and two years older than him. And also very funny, and kind, and thoughtful, and sweet, and cute, and patient.

 

Okay, so maybe he understood that.

 

He just had to hope that when Jinho caught him staring, that he didn’t think too much of it. And he didn’t appear to, thank goodness. Anytime they met eyes like that, Jinho just smiled and looked away, or asked him how he was. It was too much sometimes, and usually made Hongseok only want to stare longer.

 

He shouldn’t be allowing himself something like this. Hongseok was inherently bad, and Jinho was inherently good. That was probably a part of why he was finding himself growing more attached to him- he represented something unattainable. It didn’t account for everything, like the way Hongseok’s heart jumped and his palms went sweaty if he thought about him too long, but he was sure that was part of it. Too large a part. Confusing idolization with affection was a definite bad thing. Not that liking someone in his state was a good thing anyway.

 

But damn, if his feelings had escalated to this in such a short amount of time, there was no way to avoid it- he was fucked.

 

\---

 

Hongseok went to work for the first time on a chilly January afternoon, a small diner a couple blocks away from the apartments. If Hongseok wasn’t used to growing up in a not so good area, he may have been intimidated walking farther into dangerous areas of the city, but he was far from new to this. As it were, he still was on guard during his walk to and from work, Hui’s gifted switchblade in his pocket.

 

Hui asked him if the walk was bad, and he always said no. It truly wasn’t, The worst part of it was the cold, but he invested before long in a winter coat (even though winter was over halfway over at this point). He had been hesitant about it first, but it made the walk more bearable and that was what mattered.

 

He was only working part time, since he was barely sixteen and had no prior working experience or references. He hoped to change that sometime soon. He was earning 8500 won an hour, and he was more than grateful for that, but with the shifts being only four hours each it didn’t add up quick enough for him to do much.

 

“Your first job won’t get you much,” Jinho pointed out when he complained about it one morning, as Hui was making coffee in the kitchen. “I’m surprised they hired you at all.”

 

“I’m not,” Hui contributed, straightening his shirt. “They’re probably wondering how they got a kid to offer to work a diner that’s been shot up three times in the last five years.”

 

There were worst places, Hongseok figured. And he didn’t exactly plan to stay there long.

 

Jinho was unemployed himself until late January, when he found work as a telemarketer in the city. With it being a distance away, he needed to work his hours around Hui’s, which meant Jinho brought up significantly less income. It didn’t appear to matter much to him though, because Jinho’s mood brightened to a level Hongseok had yet to see while the guy was out of work. He seemed more relaxed and a little less withdrawn, though that could have been him getting more used to Hongseok’s presence. He even came home a little late one day with a new haircut, one that didn’t give him emo sidebangs and make him look like he was twelve.

 

Jinho and Hui started fighting bad in the beginning of February.

 

Hongseok still had no idea what they were fighting about, but he often came home from work to see Jinho sealed in the bedroom and Hui gone, and a heavy atmosphere. He still had no idea what the cause of their arguments were, and neither gave him answers, much to his annoyance. Sometimes he got a vague response or a clear lie, and he didn’t know which was more frustrating.

 

“Hyung,” he said, cutting Hui off in the middle of a blatant lie. “If you’re not going to tell me what happened, then don’t make shit up.”

 

So Hui had stopped answering his questions on it.

 

It was strange. When Jinho and Hui got along, they got along well. They teased and joked and worked together like proper roommates should, but when they fought it was hard for Hongseok to breathe. He’d excused himself more than once to escape and hope it would die down by the time he came back, but it rarely did.

 

In March, the diner lost a waiter and asked Hongseok to come in for more shifts, upping his hours to match full time. He was exhausted and tired by the end, but he was earning a little under 500,000 won a week and that was more than enough for him.

 

In April, the fighting had died somewhat, and Hongseok felt less like he was walking on eggshells around the apartment. During this month, Hongseok and Jinho shared a birthday on the seventeenth. Hongseok had to work, but when he came home at four that afternoon he found a cake in the fridge and laughed, wondering when Hui had had time to go out and get something like that, and also bring it home before going back to work.

 

“How the hell?” Jinho related, laughing as he peered into the fridge. Hongseok shrugged, feeling like he was about to laugh, too.

 

“Happy nineteenth birthday, hyung,” Hongseok said, the two of them sitting at the dining room table, each with a small piece of cake on a small plate.

 

“Happy seventeenth birthday, Hongseok-ah,” Jinho responded, smiling fondly at him. And it was then that Hongseok figured out a few things.

 

Number one, he was comfortable here. He shouldn’t have been. He didn’t really belong, and the apartment was too small, and they didn’t exactly have a lot of money between the three of them, even with all of them at work. But he was. He liked Hui and Jinho a lot more than he’d expected to, and he felt like this was another life from his old one, the one where he hurt people.

 

Number two, his feelings for Jinho had not gotten any duller than they’d been three months prior. Despite being in close quarters and stressed out, if anything they’d only expanded. He thought the smile Jinho was giving him was the best birthday present he’d ever received, and god, if that wasn’t the lamest, cheesiest thing he’d ever thought, he didn’t know what was.

 

He pulled out his phone and flipped up the camera before he could think much further. “Let’s take a picture.”

 

“Now?” Jinho asked, wrinkling his nose, and Hongseok understood. They were both tired and worn down from their days, and neither looked at their best. But Hongseok nodded, anyway, gesturing excitedly to the camera.

 

“Please?” he begged, leaning over the back of Jinho’s chair. “I hardly have any photos at all of us, and it’s kind of a special day.”

 

He could see Jinho cracking even at just the ‘please’, and wasn’t surprised when he got confirmation that they could take a photo. He laughed, dropping back in his seat and examining it.

 

“Do you know when Hui will be home?” he asked, and Jinho shrugged.

 

“He texted me and said it’s another late night. He’ll probably be here before midnight, though.”

 

And Hui was home that night, walking in the door at ten thirty and instantly getting met by the birthdays boys, the smaller of which practically pushing cake in his face. Hui responded by  _ literally _ pushing the cake back into Jinho’s face and both Hui and Hongseok laughed so hard at Jinho’s startled look that they were doubled over.

 

“Happy birthday, hyung!” Hui squeaked, dodging out of the way of a smack while Hongseok watched in heavy amusement, until Jinho caught him and smeared the cake on his face all over Hui’s work shirt. Hui voiced his complaint loudly, and Hongseok snickered while Jinho went to the bathroom to wash the sticky mess off his face.

 

“Happy birthday to you, too,” Hui added, hanging up his jacket and not bothering to change out of his work clothes yet. Hongseok nodded, grabbing his and Jinho’s and the sad would-have-been-Hui’s plates to throw out. “The cake was good?”

 

“It was great, thanks.” Hongseok gave Hui an odd look. “How the hell did you manage to do that?”

 

“I’ve been hiding it in the fridge at work for a couple days,” Hui explained, leaning against the entryway of the kitchen to relieve pressure on his feet. 

 

“I can’t believe you spent money on a cake and wasted it!” Jinho admonished, voice coming closer until he was in view. There were some cake crumbs in his hair and Hongseok brushed them away, gaining a muttered thanks in response.

 

“It was pretty funny though,” Hui said, sending him and Hongseok into further laughs. Jinho tried to hide a smile, and greatly failed.

 

“Yeah, sure,” he said, as Hui gathered him into a hug and swayed, easily moving Jinho side to side. “Thanks for the cake, Hui-ah.”

 

“Anytime,” Hui said, then shook his head. “Not really though, that thing was kind of expensive.”

 

Hongseok snorted, and was pulled in to join the hug in an instant. He eyes widened, startled at the sudden show of affection, but then all three of them were hugging and Hongseok felt warm, warm like he hadn’t felt… he didn’t know if he’d ever actually felt this warm. Not since he was a kid, at least.

 

“Treat me well on my birthday, too,” Hui said, tightening his grip on them teasingly before releasing. “I’m tired, and I need to wash my shirt. Good night.”

 

“Night!” Hongseok called after his retreating back, and shrugged at Jinho. “I’m going to sleep too.”

 

Jinho looked like he was thinking, looking Hongseok over with a strange intensity that sent Hongseok’s nerves jolting with electricity. And then, the smile- sweet and fond, just like before. “I’m really happy to see you happy.”

 

_ Happy. _

 

Fuck, he hadn’t even thought about that. But it was true. He was pretty damn happy here, in this apartment, with two short hyungs and a job and freedom he’d never quite had before. He found himself smiling back without meaning to and said, “Yeah. You too.” Because seeing Jinho happy made him happy. Hell, seeing Hui happy made him happy, too. Assholes, the both of them, for making him so affectionate with them.

 

Jinho laughed, hugging Hongseok tightly around the waist before releasing. “Let’s go to sleep.”

 

\---

 

_ May 6th, 4:18 p.m. _

 

Hongseok knew he was fucked. 

 

He was sitting in some back alley on an empty street, gasping for breath, his diner name badge lost somewhere on the road behind him, nursing incredible bruises on his chin and the side of his ribcage from punches. Holy fuck, how much had they stolen? He didn’t carry much money on him anyway around here, he wasn’t an idiot, but it was probably upwards of 60,000 won, and that was enough to make a dent.

 

His phone was shattered now- it had been broken before, from meeting Hui in December, but it wouldn’t even turn on now when he tried. Angry, annoyed, he tossed it into a pile of garbage and beer cans a few feet away.

 

He figured it was inevitable, but he’d hoped to delay that inevitability as much as was ever humanly possible.

 

He vaguely realized there were footsteps to his side, towards the sidewalk, and started shaking his head quickly. “I don’t have any more money, fuck off.”

 

“Do you want help?”

 

The boy standing over him was young, even if not much younger than Hongseok. No older than fifteen. He had a pretty, delicate looking face and limbs too long for himself, and he seemed more curious than anything.

 

“I’m fine,” Hongseok said dismissively, brushing his hands off on his knees and wincing as the movement tugged on his chest. “I just need to sit for a second.”

 

“You’re bleeding.” It was a matter of fact way of speaking, something that confused Hongseok before he glanced down to confirm. And hell, look at that, he was bleeding on his upper arm, blood dripping down. Now that he was aware, he could feel it throbbing as well as the heat it radiated.

 

“Fuck,” he said, and pushed himself to his feet abruptly. When he swayed, the younger boy stabilized him. He should have been thankful, but instead he jerked out of his hands. Habit, Hongseok guessed.

 

“You need help,” said the kid, walking after Hongseok as he left the alley and started walking. “Dude- shit, slow down, you should call the police.”

 

“I’m fine,” Hongseok said through gritted teeth, trying to tug his work shirt over his head and failing when the pain became too much. He was about ready to tear off part of his sleeve to make a bandage when the boy grabbed his arm and forced him to a halt. “ _ What _ ?”

 

The kid shook his head, and began wrapping his shirt around Hongseok’s arm. It looked nice, nicer than anything Hongseok owned. He hadn’t even noticed his follower removing his shirt, and couldn't help but noticed the guy looked way too comfortable half naked on the street.

 

“You can’t bleed out before you get home,” he pointed out, tying the sleeves together like a knot. It was tight and heavy and awkward on his arm, but Hongseok didn’t mind too much so long as it stopped his bleeding.

 

“... Thanks,” he said, resuming walking.

 

“Where’s your house?” the guy asked, keeping pace with him easily. Hongseok kind of wanted to tell him to fuck off, but that would probably be rude after the act of kindness he’d provided.

 

“The apartment buildings down the block,” Hongseok said, looking straight ahead. The boy brushed his hair back with his fingers, considering.

 

“I’ll walk you home,” he said, and Hongseok side-eyed him. “I’m not going to rob you or any of that shit. I just don't want you to pass out of the sidewalk and drop your brains on the ground.”

 

“Considerate,” said Hongseok, and was met with an eye roll.

 

“I’m Koh Shinwon,” the stranger said, and Hongseok was taken back a little by the sudden introduction. “Who are you?”

 

“Why?” Hongseok asked, more flat than he’d intended. Shinwon side eyed him like he was umimpressed.

 

“Because I asked, and I want to have a conversation.” He shrugged. “Chill, I’m not attacking you or anything. You could be nicer, you know.”

 

“I just got robbed,” said Hongseok, somewhat abashed, and Shinwon snorted.

 

“That doesn’t excuse you from being a dick.” He nodded, prompting Hongseok. “What’s your name?”

 

Hongseok bit his lip, accidentally finding a painful split in it. He’d probably bitten down without realizing. “... Sorry. I’m Yang Hongseok.”

 

“That wasn’t too hard,” Shinwon said, in a manner that was obviously patronizing. Hongseok turned on him, preparing a defense, but the way that Shinwon was smiling was more amused than mocking. “It’s nice to meet you. You work at the diner?”

 

“A few blocks down, yeah,” Hongseok answered, the questions feeling a bit off. Shouldn’t this kid be asking him about what had happened? With the blood and the disheveled appearance? Hell, a normal kid wouldn’t have done half the things that this one had so far, on second thought.

 

“Tough area to walk around in.” Hongseok shrugged in answer, already aware of that. “You going to report this in?”

 

“Maybe,” Hongseok said, watching Shinwon from the corner of his eye. That idea was pretty far from his mind at that moment, he was much more interested in getting home and sorting out his injuries. Breathing was beginning to hurt, a combination of the cold air and the bruises.

 

The apartment buildings were in view, and Shinwon looked them over like he hadn’t seen them before. A question popped into Hongseok’s head.

 

“What were you doing, walking around?”

 

Shinwon’s expression didn’t change, but he was quiet for a minute. “Nothing really. Walking.”   
  
“You were the one who mentioned it not being a safe area,” Hongseok pointed out, and Shinwon looked like he might laugh at the conversation being turned on him.

 

“Yeah, I guess you got me there.”

 

\---

 

Hongseok had barely entered the apartment before he heard a yelp of surprise from the couch, and was suddenly being manhandled by Jinho.

 

“What the fuck, Hongseok?” he demanded, and Hongseok was a little too startled to answer immediately.

 

“... Got robbed,” he answered after a second of thought, allowing himself to be steered into the dining room and sat in a chair. Shinwon remained in the doorway, awkward and looking around like he had some reason to be there.

 

Jinho went to get the first aid kit, noticing Shinwon for apparently the first time on his way there. “Why are you shirtless?” he asked, confusion evident in his tone.

 

“He gave me his shirt to stop the bleeding,” Hongseok answered before Shinwon could open his mouth. He saw Jinho’s eyes move to the cloth covering his arm, and back to Shinwon’s bare chest.

 

“Come inside, you can probably take one of Hongseok’s in a second.” Shinwon obeyed and stood in the kitchen rather than the doorway, and Jinho set up his work station at the table. “What happened?”

 

Hongseok winced as Jinho pulled away the shirt, probably tearing some fresh scabs along with it. “I left the diner, and while I was a block or two away from here three guys jumped me.” Three kids really, the oldest of them was maybe twenty. But there were more of them, and they had obviously done stuff like this before. “Didn’t even ask me shit, they just-  _ ow _ , fuck- pushed me between two buildings and took everything I had on me, and smashed my phone.”

 

“Your arm?” Jinho questioned, brow furrowed as he dabbed at the cut in a manner that could probably have been gentler.

 

“I guess I must have got cut at some point,” Hongseok said, honestly not remembering. “They kicked me around a little.”

 

“I thought he was dying when I saw him,” said Shinwon, and Hongseok rolled his eyes at the obvious exaggeration.

 

“Who are you?” Jinho asked, addressing Shinwon properly. “I’m Jo Jinho.”

 

Hongseok didn’t miss the way Shinwon’s eyes widened like he recognized the name, and he didn’t think Jinho did either. “Koh Shinwon. I walked him home.”

 

Jinho pulled away from Hongseok, staring Shinwon down in a manner that startled Hongseok. “Are you-”

 

The bedroom door opened and Hongseok startled in surprise, but it was only Hui. He must have stayed home, a huge abnormality for him, because Hongseok hadn’t seen him stay home from work at all yet, but he certainly looked like he’d needed it. He looked drowsy and pale and his eyes glinted like fever and he sniffled as he walked into the dining room.

 

“What happened?” he asked, brushing at his eyes with the back of his hand, and Hongseok felt bad for him.

 

“Hui?” That wasn’t Jinho’s voice, and Hongseok felt his confusion mount when he realized it was Shinwon who had spoken. 

 

He saw Hui pause and watched his brow furrow before he asked, “Is that Shinwon?”

 

Shinwon turned the corner from the kitchen and the way they were looking at each other made Hongseok feel horribly out of the loop. He glanced in Jinho’s direction, but the smaller hyung had a set jaw, his gaze locked on Hui like he was waiting for something. An explanation? Hongseok definitely would have appreciated one.

 

“I need to talk to you,” Shinwon said, and for the first time Hongseok realized he hadn’t been surprised to see Hui here at all. He was standing in their kitchen, shirtless, having dragged Hongseok back, and discovered Hongseok was roommates with someone he apparently knew, and for some reason there wasn’t a bit of confusion on his face over the coincidences involved. It was fishy, and Hongseok was uneasy.   
  


“What happened?” Hui asked, taking a few steps further so he was actually standing with them. Jinho was staring with the weight of stones and Hui had yet to look at him.

 

“I need to talk to you,” Shinwon repeated, and the urgency in it was more palpable this time. Just like that, Hui and him left, latching the door behind them.

 

Hongseok climbed to his feet instantly, prepared to eavesdrop, but abandoned those plans when Jinho pushed on his shoulder with more force than he knew the older was capable of. He glared without consciously meaning to, and Jinho shook his head in response.

 

“Let them go. I need to fix you anyway.”

 

“Do you know what that was about?” Hongseok asked, glancing to the doorway. His tone held less of an edge to it now, like he was apologizing a little. Jinho’s hand brushed his hair back, a motion of forgiveness.

 

“Probably,” Jinho admitted, wiping up the new blood that had begun to spill from Hongseok’s arm during the distraction.

 

“Are you going to tell me?”

 

Jinho shook his head. “No. I think Hui might, though. If this involves you, he’ll say something.”

 

“Why would it involve me?” He winced, his hand closing into a fist while Jinho set to work on sterilizing. Jinho took his hand, clearly trying to make him relax more. It worked.

 

“It involved Shinwon,” Jinho said, acting like he was concentrating on his task, but Hongseok could see in his face that he was thinking. He squeezed their hands and Jinho’s face softened slightly, before continuing. “Shinwon and Hui have known each other for a while. I’ve never met him, though.”

 

“A while?” Hongseok prodded, wanting more explanation. His bid for casualness failed, and Jinho rolled his eyes.

 

“Not actually that long. Over a year? Fourteen months? Something like that. He goes to the same school we all use to go to, and his dad is the police chief of the station a few blocks over.”

 

Hongseok had never heard the name in his life despite the connections, not that that was incredibly weird. There were a lot of kids in Busan, even the region they were in. Jinho finished the bandages, securing them with the weird skill of someone who’d had practice.

 

“Shirt off,” Jinho commanded, sorting his kit, and Hongseok almost choked.

 

“What?” he asked, thinking he might have heard wrong, and the expression Jinho gave him was confused.

 

“You got kicked around, right?” he asked, and Hongseok nodded slowly. “So we should probably make sure you only have bruises.”

 

Right. That made… more sense than where his mind had gone. Get it together, Hongseok.

 

Shirt off, neither boy could hold back a bothered expression, Hongseok especially feeling pain when he stretched his arms over his head. He breathed slow out his nose and let Jinho press his comparatively cold fingers around the bruised and irritated looking parts. It was obvious he’d been pushed around kind of bad, worse than he’d actually thought, but when he asked if Jinho thought anything was broken he was relieved to see him shake his head.

 

“No, but you’ve definitely got some bruising,” he said, climbing to his feet. He returned a few seconds later with two ice packs in hand, and pressed them against the spots that were more painful, and probably looked worse. Hongseok’s breath came fast, instinctively shying away from the chill, but Jinho held them in place.

 

“Don’t be a baby,” he said without any malice. Hongseok gave him a dirty look anyway. “Come sit on the couch, and hold onto those for a bit.”

 

Hongseok obeyed, looking at the door at the front of the apartment thoughtfully, in clear view from the living room. He knew Jinho did the same thing, but the shorter said nothing about it, so neither did Hongseok.

 

“Why did Hui stay home?” he asked, once they were both settled on the couch. He knew the answer, but he needed the small talk to keep him from running out of the front door that moment.

 

“He didn’t want to,” Jinho said, snorting. “I practically had to overdose him on cough medicine before he would agree. He needed it. If he gets either of us sick, he gets to pay next month’s rent alone.” Hongseok snorted back, and Jinho explained further. “He was getting bad last night, but it was his turn to sleep in the room anyway, so I didn’t say anything.”

 

Jinho and Hui had worked out a more long term system once it was determined that Hongseok would, in fact, be staying with them longer. They switched back and forth every week, with exceptions when someone needed a better night’s sleep. Hongseok had protested (still sometimes did protest), and claimed he was fine with taking his fair cycle on the couch as well, Hui had pulled the  _ you’re-younger _ card and Jinho had pulled the  _ you’re-a-guest _ card, and he’d almost punched them both in their faces.

 

“But he woke up this morning and woke me up coughing like death, so I found out his temperature was over a hundred and sent him back to bed. I drove to work at nine and you left at eight, so that was it.”

 

“He needs to take better care of himself,” Hongseok said, and Jinho nodded.

 

“But he’s had me to take care of him for the last year or so,” he said, and shrugged. “I guess he kinda has you now, too.” The way he said the second bit was hesitant, like he was somehow unsure if it were true.

 

Like, at this point, it could be anything else except true.

 

“He does,” Hongseok confirmed, and the smile that lit Jinho’s face held so much relief in it that it was like he’d been thinking this over for a while. Jinho was funny, maybe he had been. Who knew. The guy was a kid, barely nineteen years old, and he still acted like he was their dad sometimes. Hongseok almost gagged at the thought.

 

Hui didn’t come back until a half hour later, and it was only to walk through the house and to the bedroom, grab one of Hongseok’s shirts, and walk back out the front door with barely a wave in their direction.

 

He returned again after another hour, closing the front door as he did. In seconds Jinho was on his feet and Hongseok had sat upright, and clearly Hui was aware of their gazes, because he smiled awkwardly at them as he stepped out of his shoes. He still looked sick, but he also looked troubled.

 

“Where’s Shinwon?” Hongseok asked, trying to break the ice with easy questions first.

 

“Home, or on his way,” Hui answered. “I gave him your shirt.”

 

Hongseok had guessed that much, and mourned the loss of it already as it had been being carried out the door.

 

“What did you talk to him about?” Jinho asked, much more to the point than Hongseok. He looked like he was preparing for a scolding, arms crossed and face set. Jinho was usually not a nagging person, so Hongseok figured he already must have an idea of what was going on here. Hui shook his head, and Jinho’s fists noticeably clenched at his sides. “ _ Hui _ .”

 

“I’m going to sleep,” Hui said, pushing past Jinho even as the smaller made a grab at him, like he intended to hold him in place until he answered the questions they had. “I’ll talk to you later. Feel better, Hongseok. Both of you, don’t leave the apartment right now.” There was a seriousness in his tone that cut through the feigned casualty, and it made Hongseok uneasy.

 

“Hui!” Hongseok admonished, his tone very similar to that of Jinho’s, but the answer he got was the bedroom door closing behind Hui and the click of a lock. Jinho’s eyes narrowed in irritation and he strode up to the door, knocking hard on it with his fists, sounds that made Hongseok wince.

 

“Hui-ah!” Jinho demanded, the same angry tone he used when him and Hui fought, only magnified to the point where Hongseok wanted to sit down and not speak, for fear of having any of it directed at him. He hit the door a few more times and then groaned loud in frustration, stepping away from it and walking to the doorway of the apartment instead. Hongseok spoke up, hesitant.

 

“Jinho wait, Hui said-”

 

“I don’t give a fuck,” He had both his shoes on and was looking for something, checking his pants pockets. Hongseok saw Jinho’s phone on the side table at the same time as the older, and snatched it before Jinho could even step forward. “Give me my phone, Hongseok.”

 

Hongseok took a deep breath, shaking his head and staring at Jinho dead on, having no intention of letting up on this stubborn standoff. Jinho’s face was tinged red and he was beyond frustrated, lips pulled into a scowl and eyes narrowed. But Hongseok could see the glistening there too, and the hurt. He was being irrational.

 

“Please,” he said, trying to be as placating as possible. “If Hui said we shouldn’t leave, we probably shouldn’t.” He had no idea what the command had been for, what had caused the older boy to say it, but he didn’t doubt the seriousness of it for a second. It had been said in a tone so unlike his hyung he wanted to heed it.

 

Jinho stared him down, but Hongseok held his ground. To his and Jinho’s horror, after a few seconds tears were threatening to escape the older’s eyes, until one made a trail down his cheek and turned his eyes red.

 

“Hyung-?” Hongseok started, absolutely stunned, and Jinho shook his head repeatedly, his sleeve brushing furiously at his eyes. “What-”

 

And then Jinho was crossing the room, moving his way, and Hongseok half thought that he was about to be hit. Instead, arms crossed around his waist and Jinho’s head fell against his shoulder, and Hongseok’s mouth popped open in a soft  _ oh _ before he returned the motion. Jinho was shaking a little from the crying and Hongseok had no idea what had started it, but that didn’t change anything. He sat them down on the couch and murmured softly into Jinho’s hair while the older, a boy just barely nineteen years old, shivered and hiccuped his tears away.

 

\---

 

_ October 27th, 4:47 p.m., present day _

 

Yan An’s house was lively when Hongseok and Jinho arrived, and Hongseok couldn’t say he was surprised by it. They were over an hour late for the start of the gathering, since they’d both had to work and go home to get ready, but it seemed like there was hardly a difference anyway once they were inside.

 

Yuto pulled Jinho away almost immediately to discuss something, probably related to classes or one of the other things he talked to him about (Yuto talked to Jinho about almost everything on his mind, which Hongseok had always found very amusing, since Jinho was far from the best at advice).

 

In the meantime, Dawn dragged Hongseok into the living room and sat him on the couch next to him. Hongseok was a bit confused over the sudden forcefulness until it became apparent as Hui was returning from the kitchen that he’d taken the older’s spot. Dawn laughed loudly, while Hui just shook his head and sat on Hyojong instead, who didn’t seem to mind that much. Gross. Cute, but gross.

 

Kino, Shinwon, and Changgu were locked in conversation a few feet away, sitting against the dining room chairs that had been piled haphazardly into the room. Changgu seemed to be alright, and with this being the first time Hongseok had seen him since leaving him in the hospital unconscious, he thought that was a relief. In fact, he seemed to be animated, saying something that made both Kino and Shinwon laugh and himself grin at. He was a cute kid, Hongseok thought. Bubbly and vocal and friendly. He was excited to talk to him more.

 

Glued to Changgu’s side (definitely like a new couple, all they needed were awkwardly long hand holding sessions with sweaty grips) but in conversation with Wooseok, was Yan An. Wooseok appeared to be doing most of the talking, but Yan An was a good listener and it didn’t matter too much. Both of them were giants, nowadays. Hongseok and Shinwon had been the tallest for a while, but both of the younger boys were already almost at equal height with them.

 

Hongseok was laughing at a video Dawnie and Hui were showing him when Jinho returned, dropping onto the armrest next to Hongseok. Yuto joined up with Wooseok and Yan An, and Hongseok figured he’d gotten whatever he wanted to talk about out of his system.

 

“Good?” he asked Jinho, tilting his head back to see his boyfriend. Jinho nodded reassuringly.

 

“How are you guys?” Jinho asked Hui and Hyojong, like they hadn’t seen each other literally two days prior, like they didn’t talk multiple times a day over text or phone,

 

“Great,” Hui assured, his back leaning against the opposite arm of the couch and his legs lain over Dawn’s.

 

“We spent, like, ten hours here yesterday,” Dawn added, shaking his head.

 

“More like eight,” Hui disagreed.

 

“It was nine!” Kino called from across the room.

 

“Something like that,” Hui settled on, and shrugged. “I guess Yan An’s parents get back on Thursday.”

 

Explained the call for a hang out, plus everyone wanting to check in and ensure the group was doing well after the shit that had happened on Sunday. Ensure Changgu was doing well, despite most of them only knowing him a couple days, or less than that.

 

“It’s incredible that they were nice enough to agree to keep Changgu without even meeting him,” Jinho said, voicing what most of the group had been thinking.

 

“I think Yan An had to do some begging,” Dawn said, eyeing Yan An across the room. Hongseok withheld the urge to follow his gaze. “He really cares about Changgu.”

 

“Yeah, it takes a lot of effort to get someone to take in a kid without a home,” Hongseok said, sarcasm not obvious but very implicit. Jinho shoved his shoulder at the same time as Hui, and they laughed.

 

“What are you laughing at?” Kino asked, wrapping his arms around Hui’s shoulders and looking over the oldest members of their group. Hongseok realized that the room had pretty much settled down, and attention was directed their way.

 

“Nothing that funny,” Jinho said, smile wide but soft.

 

“How are you doing, Changgu?” Hongseok asked, redirecting the conversation. The boy in question lifted his arm, displaying his sling he’d been given to ensure his hand didn’t move more than absolutely necessary.

 

“Good, I can’t feel it most of the time,” he said, and laughed in a manner that was freer than what Hongseok had yet to see. “I’m good, though. Thank you guys for being so concerned over me.”

 

“We’d kind of be assholes if we weren’t,” Hyojong pointed out, shrugging.

 

“You’re already an asshole,” Shinwon said, looking proud of himself while the hyungs laughed loudly, and Yuto and Wooseok made drawn out  _ oooooh! _ -ing sounds.

 

“He’s right,” Kino said with a grin, and Hyojong rolled his eyes, the smile on his face betraying his amusement.

 

“But really, it’s nice that you’re okay.” Hui, always with the save. Changgu nodded hurriedly, and Hongseok really hoped the kid relaxed more around them soon.

 

“When’s Changgu getting his own room?” Hyojong asked, and the laughter from the three sitting across from Hongseok was remarkably like that of children. Jinho nudged Hui with his foot to shut him up, but he was very visibly hiding a smile.

 

Yan An was tinted red in his ears, and made a sound of protest that only increased the laughter volume. Changgu turned and hid his face in the taller’s shoulder, and the room made cooing sounds at them.

 

“Be nice,” Hui said, as though he hadn’t been laughing five seconds earlier. Everyone dialed back on the teasing, but Hongseok didn’t fail to notice that Changgu and Yan An sat shoulder to shoulder even after, probably uncomfortable on the edges of their chairs. Cute kids in a fresh relationship.

 

Wooseok said something that made Dawn respond loudly, nearly climbing to his feet and knocking Hui off of him. The group laughed, and Hongseok thought it felt like home. Jinho was leaning against his back lightly, warm and present. Hui was snickering and shoving Dawn back down into the seat, Kino’s arms still wrapped around his shoulders. The three of them, still around and together, and to Hongseok’s occasional awe still  _ alive _ , and it was incredible to have their little family grow like this.

 

He was so thankful.

 

\---

 

_ May, 2 years ago _

 

Hongseok and Jinho had fallen asleep on the couch that day, and when they’d woken up Hui was gone, out somewhere. Nothing that could be done about that, Jinho needed to get ready for work and Hongseok needed to call in, with there being absolutely no way he could do a full eight hours in his condition.

 

_ “Are you okay?” _ Hongseok had asked Jinho as the older started to work through his morning routine, and Jinho had feigned surprise in a way that kind of made Hongseok want to slap him.

 

_ “Me? Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay, Hongseok-ah?” _

 

Hongseok had nodded, and that was that.

 

Hui didn’t come home that night until late, when Jinho and Hongseok were holed up in the bedroom but awake, able to hear him open the door and start up the microwave. The two met eyes in the darkness, a silent question, before Jinho climbed off the mattress and walked out of the room. Hongseok remained, only listening in case there was another escalation in their fight, but there was none. 

 

He fell asleep then, before Jinho returned.

 

From then on, Hongseok was at a complete loss of what to do. The apartment’s atmosphere was constantly spent walking on eggshells, hardly a word spoken to Hui and only vain attempts at conversations from the boy himself, all of which failed. In all senses, it was worse than fighting. It was tense and stressful in a way Jinho and Hui’s old fights had never been, and he still had no idea what the origin of the matter even was.

 

Hui took permanent residence on the couch, and started staying out later, working longer and doing who knows what outside that. Jinho had a crease in his brow that Hongseok desperately wanted to smooth out, just like he wanted to smooth out this rough patch and go back to normal.

 

His arm was mostly healed within a week, and though the bruises still gave him trouble he was back at work the very day he thought he could handle it. He got home that day and took a long bath he normally wouldn’t have indulged in, something that upped the water bill, but he was willing to pay for it if he could just relax in the peace and quiet and forget his worries for a while, as long as he could. Even though the water soothed his tired muscles after their day of activity, it couldn’t banish the thoughts from his mind and he was out within fifteen minutes, giving his reflection an annoyed look in the mirror.

 

He heard Jinho start the water to do the very same thing that night, and smiled an unamused smile at their similar thoughts.

 

\---

 

_ May 17th, 9:47 p.m. _

 

Hongseok would hesitate to describe himself as content after the last few weeks, but he thought this was probably as close as he was going to get to it, and he was more than okay with that.

 

The TV was playing the same off-cable dramas it always did, nothing ever interesting but it was enough for entertainment and distraction when they needed it. The volume was low, low enough that it was background noise to Hongseok but he could probably listen if he concentrated, flashing colors before his eyes that he didn’t bother to distinguish. At the beginning, when they had sat down to relax a few hours ago, him and Jinho had been sitting on separate ends of the couch- now, Jinho was lying with his head in Hongseok’s lap, breathing soft and even. Hongseok had been drawing his fingers through Jinho’s hair at one point, but now his hand just rested against a few strands. He wasn’t even certain if Jinho was awake, but he hadn’t moved in a bit just in case.

 

Apparently he was, because Jinho shifted, turning his face away from the TV so he was facing Hongseok instead. Hongseok resumed his earlier activity after only a second of hesitation, brushing Jinho’s hair back from where it was messy against his forehead. Jinho appeared thoughtful, an expression which made Hongseok a little nervous and concerned.

 

“What’s wrong?” he asked after a moment, even though his heart was beating weirdly while he looked down because  _ yeah _ , that was definitely still a thing.

 

Jinho shook his head slowly. “Nothing,” he assured, voice soft. “How are you, Hongseok?”

 

The question caught Hongseok a little off guard, and he hesitated before answering. “I’m fine. How are you?”

 

“Are you really?” Jinho asked, ignoring the question, his tone making it clear he thought Hongseok was lying. And he kind of was, even if he hadn’t meant to.

 

Hongseok looked down at Jinho blankly for a little while longer, but Jinho’s eyes were sincere and patient and clearly expecting another answer, and his emotions were always so hard to hide around him. From the very beginning, it had been that way, and it had only gotten worse as they’d grown closer. His mouth opened, almost on its own accord.

 

“I’d be better if you and Hui weren’t fighting,” he admitted, averting his gaze to the drama on the television.

 

“... Me too,” Jinho said. Hongseok’s hand stopped its movements, and the older reached up, taking it in his own. Hongseok’s hair stood on end like he’d been shocked electrically, his heart stuttering at the action as Jinho held both of their hands in Hongseok’s lap, beside his face. He seemed completely unaware of the mini heart attack his movements caused Hongseok, with his face so deep in thought. Hongseok was overcome with the desire to kiss him until his thoughts left him.

 

He mentally slapped himself, because wow,  _ get it fucking together Yang Hongseok _ .

 

“Then stop,” Hongseok suggested, though he knew things couldn’t really be that simple. It made Jinho snort, a humorless smile coming to his face.

 

“I wish.” Hongseok wanted to question more, but Jinho changed the subject before he could intervene with one, shifting to sit up and sending Hongseok’s emotions into an irrational panic. “We have work tomorrow, we should go to sleep.”

 

“Wait,” Hongseok blurted before he could think, setting his hand on Jinho’s shoulder to hold him in place. Jinho gave him a confused look. “Let’s wait a little longer, okay?”

 

The expression on Jinho’s face only increased in intensity, but he resumed his position anyway. He seemed concerned. “... Are you alright, Hongseok?” 

 

Hongseok nodded, leaning back to get situated again. “Me? Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just- comfortable, I guess.” Hongseok felt Jinho turn, resuming his earlier position of being turned towards Hongseok, and grabbed Hongseok’s hand from where it was still lightly pushing on his shoulder. Hongseok had to remind himself to breathe, as Jinho slowly played with his hand. He traced over the bones with the pads of his fingers, lightly opened and closed his fist, and covered fingers to warm them.

 

“Hey, Hongseok?”

 

Hongseok was a bit distracted by the movements Jinho was doing, but still managed to find his voice and respond with, “Yeah?”

 

Jinho raise his unoccupied hand and sat it against Hongseok’s cheek, an action that seemed awkward but set Hongseok’s face ablame with a heat he was certain Jinho would be able to feel all the way through his fingers. “It’s nice to know the real you.”

 

Hongseok’s brain stalled, confused. “What do you mean?”

 

Jinho’s thumb traced gently over his cheeks in a motion probably meant to be smoothing, but that was just distracting. “I mean- from when you first came here, to know. Since you’ve opened up to us. You’re actually really sweet, you know?”

 

Yang Hongseok was fundamentally bad, maybe, but he was also fundamentally a  _ crybaby _ . So when he felt his eyes grow wet, he was far from surprised, even if he was horrified by it. Jinho’s face changed and his mouth formed an ‘o’ of surprise.

 

“Oh, sorry,” he said, laugh awkward as he lowered his hand from Hongseok’s face. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

 

“It’s fine,” Hongseok insisted shakily, brushing at his eyes hurriedly with the sleeves of his shirt. “Just- it was a nice thing to say.”

 

Jinho hummed and Hongseok didn’t know what the sound meant, so he didn’t respond. A few minutes of silence felt like an eternity of Hongseok just trying to pull himself together, Jinho resuming his task of playing with Hongseok’s fingers, until the older spoke up again.

 

“I like having you around, Hongseok-ah.”

 

The words echoed through the room and inside of Hongseok’s skull, even after Jinho had fallen asleep on the couch, even when it was almost midnight and Hui wasn’t home, even in his dreams when he finally fell asleep himself, certain to give himself a stiff neck and back from hell when he woke up.

 

\---

 

_ May 25th, 7:38 p.m. _

 

Jinho wasn’t home yet, and Hongseok was losing his mind with anxiety.

 

When he’d realized Jinho was a half hour late, he’d sent Jinho a text message, expecting an answer quickly about being held up, which was abnormal but not unheard of. When Jinho hadn’t responded to that, Hongseok had called him, and listened to nothing but dial tone. After an hour and a half, he’d even called Hui, but the older was busy and shot him a text saying to call him later.

 

It was now two and a half hours passed, and Hongseok had no idea what to do. He’d resigned himself to restlessly pacing the small apartment, blasting music so loud he might end up with noise complaints to drown out his mind but he didn’t pay that any mind at all.

 

He was about to stop and eat dinner, an idea that had completely escaped his mind, when he heard someone twisting the doorknob of his front door.

 

Hongseok turned in the direction of the entryway in an instant, any thoughts of meal forgotten. The knob was shaken a few times, urgent, and Hongseok was confused, because Jinho or Hui would always have their key. He approached and cautiously looked out the peephole to confirm, and jolted back in stunned surprise before tugging the door open.

 

Shinwon smiled at him in a manner that looked way too much like a wince to be casual and walked inside the apartment, Jinho towing behind him. Any of Hongseok questions of confusion to Shinwon were neglected the moment he saw the older, relief flowing through him.

 

“What- oh my god, where were you? What happened?”

 

Jinho didn’t respond, and Hongseok registered that he had a very worrying expression, one that was distant and distinctly wrong in a way that made his tension levels rise to the absolute max. He was wearing a jacket that was definitely to big to be his and definitely too big to be Shinwon’s, hands stuck in the pockets and tensed up so tight they were almost against his chest. The kind of small he looked was the farthest thing from his normal, endearing kind.

 

Jinho wet his lips, hesitating a second, and then pushed past Hongseok in a manner that was ruder than he probably meant, hurried and rough. “I need to shower,” he said without looking back, his voice scratchy and hoarse. Hongseok furrowed his brow and started after him.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong? You really scared me,” he stated, reaching out and grabbing Jinho by his wrist to stop him. Jinho flinched, and Hongseok felt a little like he’d been punched in the gut from such a strong reaction.

 

“I need to shower,” Jinho repeated, not fighting Hongseok’s grip, but turned away the instant he was let go. He pulled his hands out of his pocket to open the door and Hongseok caught a glimpse of something worrying before Jinho disappeared into the bathroom.

 

“Was that-?” Hongseok started, advancing on Shinwon, but was cut off.

 

“I can’t,” Shinwon said, and at Hongseok’s confused expression elaborated. He looked pained, expression and exhaustion too heavy for a kid like him. “I only wanted to make sure he got home and that I talked to Hui.”

 

And then Hongseok was angry, clenching his fists at his sides and furrowing his brow. “Shinwon, what the fuck do you mean by that? Where was he? What happened?”

 

Shinwon bit his lip, his hesitation only further agitating Hongseok. “I found him downtown, and I thought I should walk him home.”

 

“He had  _ blood _ on his hands,” Hongseok said, leaning over Shinwon and probably looking pretty intimidating, but Shinwon didn’t look scared. He just shook his head and looked down and his feet. He’d seen it, dried redness over Jinho’s fingers and palms, and staining the ends of his sleeves. “Why didn’t you take him to the hospital? Oh my god, we should probably go to the hospital, but Hui has the car-”

 

“Hongseok,” Shinwon interrupted, shifting in front of the older to block him from walking off, and effectively halting Hongseok’s descent into panic. “Hyung, he’s not hurt.”

 

Hongseok shook his head, unable to believe that Shinwon was being so dense. “What do you mean he’s not- are you delusional?” His words came out like a laugh, eyes a little too wide.

 

Shinwon stepped back, away from Hongseok and sitting down in one the chairs, all the while annoying Hongseok more and more because he wasn’t  _ answering _ , why wasn’t he just explaining what was going on?

 

The shower started in the bathroom and startled Hongseok more than he cared to admit, shooting a glare at Shinwon like it was somehow his fault, even though that wasn’t fair. Shinwon just shrugged and looked down at the table, so Hongseok sighed and pulled out his phone to call Hui again.

 

Twenty minutes later the shower stopped. Hongseok’s call to Hui had failed to be answered, him and Shinwon were still sitting in silence that seemed even louder with the absence of water falling in the background, and Hongseok’s nails were digging crescents into his palms while his head swam with the overall sense that something here was so horribly wrong, that everything was the farthest thing from as it should be, and it sat so heavy on his chest and shoulders that he could hardly breathe.

 

The door opened and Hongseok looked up, meeting Jinho’s eyes. The older stared back at him in a way that was akin to a deer in headlights, stiff and vulnerable, and Hongseok’s heart physically ached in his chest, because he could only imagine what Jinho was feeling right then that made him look so distressed and out of it. His eyes were red like he’d been crying and Hongseok figured he probably had been.

 

“Are you-” Hongseok started after what felt like an eternity, but was cut off when Jinho started shaking his head, slow at first and then quicker. Hongseok got to his feet in an instant, horrified, and Jinho ran forward and hugged Hongseok so tightly it was almost painful. Hongseok could feel Jinho trembling against him froze for what felt like years before he reacted, wrapping his arms around Jinho and holding him close. In all the time that Hongseok had lived here, even when Hui and Jinho fought,,, he couldn’t remember ever seeing Jinho cry like this. Shaking sobs that sounded painful, ones that wracked through the older’s body and even into Hongseok’s.

 

Hongseok shushed him, sitting them down onto the couch. Jinho leaned into Hongseok’s chest and wouldn’t lift his face- honestly, Hongseok was a little scared for him to.

 

Jinho cried for a half hour straight, tears interrupted by coughing and hiccups while Hongseok rubbed his back, combed through his wet hair, kissed his forehead, anything he could think of to keep him from receding into his mind and whatever had happened to cause this, and it didn’t work but it did appear to help at least slightly, and that was what mattered. And even after the tears stopped he was quiet, breathing labored and clutching at Hongseok’s shirt so desperately that Hongseok was afraid he might tear straight through it.

 

“Do you want-” Hongseok started to ask in as soft of a voice as he could, but Jinho shook his head and that was that.

 

Hui came home late that night, no later expected but it felt like years had passed with Hongseok sitting on the couch with Jinho. He’d almost forgotten Shinwon was there until the younger boy stood up to greet Hui at the door. Hongseok met eyes with Hui for a few moments. He wasn’t sure what was conveyed between them then, but it was definitely something, because Hui dropped his coat on the kitchen counter and entered the bedroom with Shinwon to talk. Even though the walls in their apartment were paper thin, Hongseok had absolutely no idea what they were saying.

 

“I need to talk to Hui,” Jinho said without moving, speaking for the first time in an hour and a half. Hongseok’s back hurt from slouching and supporting Jinho’s weight, but he didn’t dare move.

 

“Do it later,” he advised, tucking some of Jinho’s stray hair behind his ears. The older didn’t fight the recommendation, turning his body so he was lying on his side, and his cheek rather than his forehead rested against Hongseok’s now wet chest. “Do you want to go to sleep?”

 

Jinho nodded slowly, but didn’t close his eyes. Hongseok understood (he didn’t really) and lightly traced circles against Jinho’s back.

 

“Hongseok-ah?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“... Do you think I’m a bad person?”

 

The question came as such a shock to Hongseok that he felt his heart skip a beat. When he recovered, he looked down at Jinho with an incredulous expression, but the older didn’t look up.

 

“Never,” Hongseok assured, unable to keep the disbelief from his tone. Jinho started to shake again, and Hongseok lightly jostled his shoulder to get his attention again. “Hey, is this what this is about?”

 

“Hongseok-” Jinho started, voice cracking, and Hongseok cut him off before he could feel bad about it.

 

“No, Jinho, you’re a great person, why would you even think that?”

 

Jinho was shaking his head again, turning his face into Hongseok’s shirt like he wanted to turn back to before he’d asked. “I- Hongseok, please.”

 

“You’re a great person,” Hongseok insisted, turning Jinho’s chin with his hand so that the older was looking at him while he talked. Jinho stared up at him, and he continued. “Jinho, coming from a bad person, you’re an amazingly good person. You forgive Hui when he does stupid shit, you still talk to me and like me even though you know what I’ve done, you look after us even though you’re hardly even older. You’re an extremely, ridiculously good person, Jinho.” Hongseok laughed lightly, but Jinho didn’t even smile. He just nodded once and glanced to the side, thinking hard about something that brought a crease to his brow. He spoke up after a moment.

 

“What’s the worst thing a good person could do that would make them not a good person anymore?”

 

“Why are you asking?” Hongseok questioned. Jinho stared at him without an answer, and the intensity of it made the younger uneasy until he answered. “I don’t know. Murder?”

 

Jinho pursed his lips and lowered his gaze again, falling back against Hongseok’s chest without a word. This was almost worse than the crying, this emotional detachment that freaked Hongseok out beyond belief, but he couldn’t think of what to say.

 

Hui and Shinwon left the room a few minutes later and Jinho climbed on his feet, swaying a little. Both Hui and Hongseok jumped to stabilize him, Hui looked pained beyond belief.

 

“You should go lay down,” Hui advised, initiating the most interaction the pair had had in the last week, and Jinho shook his head.

 

“I need to talk to you.”

 

“Are you sure?” Hongseok asked on reflex, even though it was obvious that Jinho was, with his set posture and determined look despite the fact he looked emotionally wrecked. Jinho looked up at Hongseok, and the younger got the message there before Hui and Jinho disappeared back into the bedroom.

 

“I’m leaving,” Shinwon said, standing awkwardly in the entryway with his hands in his pockets. “Just- Hongseok, make sure they’re both okay, okay? No fighting or being depressing or anything.”

 

“I try,” Hongseok snorted, not humored, and sat down on the couch. “I guess just- thanks. For whatever it was that you did.”

 

“Of course,” Shinwon replied, smiling and giving an awkward wave, and then he was out the door and Hongseok was left in an apartment with an atmosphere that was so heavy he felt like if he wasn’t careful, he may be crushed.

 

\---

 

They all slept in the bedroom that night. Neither Hui nor Hongseok questioned it when Jinho curled up to sleep next to Hongseok, but Hongseok’s heart did jump at it anyway, even though he knew full well the reason for it wasn’t good. He was sure Jinho didn’t sleep that night, because he didn’t sleep either and he was willing to bet that Hui’s night was also sleepless. 

 

Jinho started shaking again towards early morning, and Hongseok curled around him like he may protect the older from whatever was plaguing him. It seemed to help a bit, because by the time it was morning Jinho had finally drifted off to a fitful sleep, hands fisted lightly against Hongseok’s shirt.

 

Hui called them all in for work and Hongseok and Jinho stayed in bed while Hui ordered in pizza for lunch, reminding Hongseok that none of the had ate dinner the night before, that he knew of. He was hungry enough to eat anything, but when he asked Jinho if he was hungry once he’d woken up, he was met with silence. In fact, the only time Jinho moved or spoke that entire day was whenever Hongseok got up or came back, and even then sometimes he was met with silence.

 

The following couple days were the weekend, and Hongseok made it his mission to corner Hui and ask what had happened. But it was very clear that Hui knew exactly what he was trying to do, and therefore ensured that the only times they were in the same room, Jinho was also there, and Hongseok couldn’t bear to ask around him in case it triggered something he couldn’t take back.

 

In the following month, Hongseok never was told explicitly what it was that had destroyed Jinho’s mental state. But he found out nonetheless- as rumors started flying, and when Jinho was fired from his job for reasons that sounded almost made up on the spot, like lateness and excessive calling in. 

 

He heard high school students in the diner talking about how one of the former seniors had killed two older former students and gotten away with it; he saw on the news, the investigations into the bodies found downtown with bullet wounds, and the search for the missing gun (as well as how the perpetrator had obtained it).

 

When he got home that evening, Jinho smiled at him from the kitchen and his heart sank, because everything clicked and he was facing what had happened dead on, but he still couldn’t help himself from pulling Jinho into a tight hug. The older accepted it with a heavy gratefulness that tugged at his emotions and he knew, as if there had ever been any doubt, that there was an explanation for this that would absolve him of any guilt. He knew it in his soul, in the core of his being, in his complete and utter trust in him.

 

It was more than a little scary, that trust.

 

They celebrated Hui’s eighteenth birthday at the end of August. There was a cake, and Shinwon and Hui’s new boyfriend Hyojong, and it was a little like family.

 

In the beginning of September, Jinho and Hongseok had their first kiss underneath the trees and stars. It was in the parking lot of a drug store, but it was somehow the most perfect place Hongseok had ever been.

 

\---

 

_ December 23rd, one year ago _

 

“Are you sure there’s no return address?”

 

“I’m older than you Seok-ah, I promise.”

 

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

 

Jinho rolled his eyes, standing next to Hongseok in the post office while the younger filled out forms. There was a small brown package at his side, one with tape done haphazardly as though the one wrapping it had never wrapped before (that wasn’t too far off). Hongseok’s hands jerked while he finished the last signature and Jinho sat his hand against his boyfriend’s arm. “Hey, calm down. What are you so nervous about?”

 

Hongseok didn’t really have an answer for that, so he just nodded and passed the paper and box across the counter. The worked on the other side barely glanced at them before nodding that they were good to go.

 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Jinho teased, and Hongseok shook his head. “You did a nice thing, there was nothing to be worried about.”

 

“It’s not even close to enough to fix anything,” Hongseok pointed out, somewhat glum, and Jinho bit his lip.

 

“I think we both know that wasn’t the point here.”

 

“... Yeah,” Hongseok said brushing his hair back. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  
On Christmas day, the anniversary of his suicide attempt, Kyun Sejun opened a package with no return address.

**Author's Note:**

> [my listography!](http://listography.com/jinhoes?m=6404158689)
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> yell at me about ptg and my writing on [my twitter](https://twitter.com/jin_hoes) or [my tumblr](http://jin-hoes.tumblr.com)


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